Now that SE Pennsylvania has become a sub-tropical rain forrest, my hair has been UNBELIEVABLE! We are talking, full on pyramid-shaped afro. Now, I freely admit that I am extremely deficient in hair styling ability. So, when I have to use multiple products to be able to fit through the bathroom doorway without having to duck or turn sidways, it's definitely time for a change.
So, I decided that tonight was the night. Jojo had yet another (!) cheerleading practice (pause), which meant that I had two hours to kill. I looked online to find the closest Hair Cuttery (no appointment required) and set out. When I walked in, I had no idea what I wanted other than a change. So, figuring that I would have time to browse magazines, I was feeling pretty confident. Within five minutes, they call my name. Uh...okay, here we go. The stylist brings me back to her chair and asks what I'm looking to do.
"Uh...I'm not sure...how about that!" I said, pointing at one of the wall posters of a beautiful young blond woman with a cute, funky short hairstyle.
"Great, come on back and we'll get you shampooed!" Her confidence was comforting and I felt great with my decision.
When it was all said and done, the cut looked great. Even the stylist said, "You're walking out of here a whole new person!" Uh...okay...really? On the way to the car, I regain the bounce in my step, however. I can't wait to surprise Jojo with my new look!
After parking back at the gym, I head toward the back area where the girls are practicing. One of the Cheer Moms who is standing outside on her cellphone does an obvious double-take and shouts across the parking lot, "Oh my God! You look great!" I, literally, looked behind me to see who she was talking about. I think we have exchanged all of 20 words since the beginning cheer on August 1. Nope, nobody is behind me. How sweet! I smiled and waved my thanks. Then I walked into the gym. Literally every Cheer Parent who was there gave me a compliment about my haircut. One woman even winked and gave a thumbs up. To tell the truth, I began to feel self-conscious and embarrassed that I must have looked like a complete mess for the entirety of the preceding 6 weeks.
Then my daughter came over, during a water break and said "What did you do to your hair?!" with a dubious expression on her little face. Ah, that's my girl! A much-needed, cold-water in the face, shot of reality from Jojo -- and down to Earth I came. Twenty minutes in that rarified air was about all I could take anyway. Thanks, baby!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Hung over from too much whine!
I have tried and tried to excuse away the selfishness of humanity for the vast majority of my adult life. Unfortunately, at this point I cannot escape the one question that has been burning in the back of my mind for all of that time: Why do some folks seem so incapable of getting out of their own skulls long enough to realize that they actually live on a planet with other people? Since I don't want to bore anyone to death -- although I know many, many people who wouldn't mind boring me to death with the totality of what is one their mind (usually themselves!) at any given time -- I will stick with this week for my examples.
Monday: My darling boy, Bo, has lost the cellphone that he harangued me to get him for a year, and which I told him that he would have to wait until he's a teenager, and then bought for him for his 13th birthday a mere 6 months ago! I immediately go into Sherlock Holmes mode, trying to take Bo, kicking and screaming, step-by-step through the days between the last time he knows he had the phone and when he finally admitted to losing it. He doesn't want to go through this exercise and I am met with the patented teenaged eye rolls/sloutchy pouts/repeated heavy sighs routine. (At one point, I asked Bo if he was in need of an inhaler since he seemed to be having trouble breathing normally...which garnered another heavy sigh. I couldn't resist!) Finally, we get around to calling friends with whom he had spent time between last having his phone and Admission Monday. Are the friends helpful? Not immediately, but they "will look around" and let him know. Uh, cool, can you do that right now? Apparently, not.
Tuesday: I have been in intestinal distress every time I eat for three days. By Day 3 of the Great Potty Race, I'm living on water and icecubes because I a) can't tolerate anything else, b) am afraid of dehydrating, especially since I've also been sweating like a racehorse. (Vogue material, I am not!), and c) have resorted to buying and using A&D ointment, despite my ban on the stuff in my home once Koko was out of diapers. Is my loving husband concerned for my well-being? Well, you tell me. Before going upstairs to bed at 8:45, because he's exhausted!, he asks me to sleep on the couch because it's impossible for him to get any sleep when I am constantly getting out of bed all night. After my head exploded, I fell sideways onto the couch for the remainder of the night. I assume his sleep went undisturbed.
Wednesday: My father has been experiencing chest pains and shortness of breath. He's not very old, in his late 60's, but there is a hideous family history of heart disease on the paternal side of my family. My poor dad has been dealing with this for months, had a cardiac catherization and stent placement a few months back with initial relief, but recently started having problems again and worse than ever. So, he had a nuclear stress test, which came back as okay, and the doctor ordered more tests. The "big day" was scheduled for Wednesday (yesterday). So, it's 8:15 PM and I'm not feeling well, exhausted from getting little, to no, sleep on the couch the night before, annoyed at my husband, and overwhelmed by the information I had just received at Back to School Night for multiple children. I place a call to cry on my mom's shoulder and my dad answers. Do I ask my dad how he is feeling or how the appointment went? No, I just ask for my mom in order to get my complaint-fest rolling.
So...am I immune to Inward Focus Syndrome? Apparently not.
Monday: My darling boy, Bo, has lost the cellphone that he harangued me to get him for a year, and which I told him that he would have to wait until he's a teenager, and then bought for him for his 13th birthday a mere 6 months ago! I immediately go into Sherlock Holmes mode, trying to take Bo, kicking and screaming, step-by-step through the days between the last time he knows he had the phone and when he finally admitted to losing it. He doesn't want to go through this exercise and I am met with the patented teenaged eye rolls/sloutchy pouts/repeated heavy sighs routine. (At one point, I asked Bo if he was in need of an inhaler since he seemed to be having trouble breathing normally...which garnered another heavy sigh. I couldn't resist!) Finally, we get around to calling friends with whom he had spent time between last having his phone and Admission Monday. Are the friends helpful? Not immediately, but they "will look around" and let him know. Uh, cool, can you do that right now? Apparently, not.
Tuesday: I have been in intestinal distress every time I eat for three days. By Day 3 of the Great Potty Race, I'm living on water and icecubes because I a) can't tolerate anything else, b) am afraid of dehydrating, especially since I've also been sweating like a racehorse. (Vogue material, I am not!), and c) have resorted to buying and using A&D ointment, despite my ban on the stuff in my home once Koko was out of diapers. Is my loving husband concerned for my well-being? Well, you tell me. Before going upstairs to bed at 8:45, because he's exhausted!, he asks me to sleep on the couch because it's impossible for him to get any sleep when I am constantly getting out of bed all night. After my head exploded, I fell sideways onto the couch for the remainder of the night. I assume his sleep went undisturbed.
Wednesday: My father has been experiencing chest pains and shortness of breath. He's not very old, in his late 60's, but there is a hideous family history of heart disease on the paternal side of my family. My poor dad has been dealing with this for months, had a cardiac catherization and stent placement a few months back with initial relief, but recently started having problems again and worse than ever. So, he had a nuclear stress test, which came back as okay, and the doctor ordered more tests. The "big day" was scheduled for Wednesday (yesterday). So, it's 8:15 PM and I'm not feeling well, exhausted from getting little, to no, sleep on the couch the night before, annoyed at my husband, and overwhelmed by the information I had just received at Back to School Night for multiple children. I place a call to cry on my mom's shoulder and my dad answers. Do I ask my dad how he is feeling or how the appointment went? No, I just ask for my mom in order to get my complaint-fest rolling.
So...am I immune to Inward Focus Syndrome? Apparently not.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Just Trying to Get Healthy...
I know I said I was ready for some football, but cheerleading craziness is truly something to behold. In desperation, I'm trying to keep up with some sort of fitness routine, but it has been a real pain in the neck (in every respect since I have not been able to turn my head to the left for two days now!). Take last week, for example. Monday, there was no cheerleading and, while we debated taking Jojo to taekwon do (something we're trying to keep up with since it has self-protective qualities -- always a good thing for a petite flower to know), but decided to let her chill out for a night. This gave me a chance to go back to the Y! I was thrilled by the idea of getting back in with the DWA Old Guard and trying to get back in the swim (couldn't resist!) while not drowning. Ugh! The classes don't start until 9/12 and I have a commitment that I can't miss. Grrrrr.... So, it was to the treadmill (making a large arch away from the eliptical trainer that nearly took my life back in July) and marching out a few miles. Boring, but enough to work up a froth. I felt good enough about myself after this bit of "me time" that I re-committed to sticking with a fitness routine.
The rest of the week was CONSUMED by cheerleading. I'm not kidding! But I wasn't going to let it interfere with my new commitment to myself. On Tuesday night, the girls are now "training" for two hours at a cheerleading/gymnastics gym located about a 1/2 hour away from home. Since it was like a sauna in the waiting area, I could have sweat off a few inches, but I chose to spare those around me and headed out for a mall walk, since it was raining pretty hard and I wanted to do something to raise my puserate. I remember the Old Guard had recommened mall walking, so I decided to check it out. Well, the mall was pretty deserted on a Tueday evening, so the walking was okay but I don't think I was wearing the right shoes (are there mall walking shoes?) since I wound up with pains in my shins pretty early on. I returned to the gym for the final 45 mintes of practice. Needless to say, when Jojo walked out and saw me sitting there sweating like a fiend and then limping over to help her with her cheer bag, she was a little concerned and a lot embarrassed. "Mom, what's going on? Why are you sweaty and limping? Did you go running?"
It's okay, honey, I'm just trying to get healthy.
Wednesday was another 2 hr. practice in the gym at one of the elementary schools. There was no room for parents to hang out, but I spied a track behind the school and decided to make the most of it. Since it has been raining for about 38 days and 38 nights, I walked the track while imagining the animals walking 2-by-2 along with me. Actually, the light rain made the walking seem almost too easy, so I decided to start the "speedwalking" routine that I saw demonstrated on Veria (a cable station geared toward masochistic, perimenopausal women who are desperate enough to turn to supplements and silly fitness trends like speedwalking, also known as "doing the duck.") With my keister, the duck walk was pretty easy, until the shin pains started again (are there speedwalking shoes?). I must have been a real sight! Anyway, after about 45 minutes, I headed out to run some errands, feeling good enough about my efforts on the track that I must not have noticed the strange looks that I'm sure I was receiving. When I went back to pick Jojo up from practice, she, again, looked at me with distress and said "What happened? You look like a racoon with an afro! Were you crying? Why are you limping?"
It's okay, honey, I'm just trying to get healthy.
At this point, I believe I have ruined her for "healthy living" for the rest of her life!
The rest of the week was CONSUMED by cheerleading. I'm not kidding! But I wasn't going to let it interfere with my new commitment to myself. On Tuesday night, the girls are now "training" for two hours at a cheerleading/gymnastics gym located about a 1/2 hour away from home. Since it was like a sauna in the waiting area, I could have sweat off a few inches, but I chose to spare those around me and headed out for a mall walk, since it was raining pretty hard and I wanted to do something to raise my puserate. I remember the Old Guard had recommened mall walking, so I decided to check it out. Well, the mall was pretty deserted on a Tueday evening, so the walking was okay but I don't think I was wearing the right shoes (are there mall walking shoes?) since I wound up with pains in my shins pretty early on. I returned to the gym for the final 45 mintes of practice. Needless to say, when Jojo walked out and saw me sitting there sweating like a fiend and then limping over to help her with her cheer bag, she was a little concerned and a lot embarrassed. "Mom, what's going on? Why are you sweaty and limping? Did you go running?"
It's okay, honey, I'm just trying to get healthy.
Wednesday was another 2 hr. practice in the gym at one of the elementary schools. There was no room for parents to hang out, but I spied a track behind the school and decided to make the most of it. Since it has been raining for about 38 days and 38 nights, I walked the track while imagining the animals walking 2-by-2 along with me. Actually, the light rain made the walking seem almost too easy, so I decided to start the "speedwalking" routine that I saw demonstrated on Veria (a cable station geared toward masochistic, perimenopausal women who are desperate enough to turn to supplements and silly fitness trends like speedwalking, also known as "doing the duck.") With my keister, the duck walk was pretty easy, until the shin pains started again (are there speedwalking shoes?). I must have been a real sight! Anyway, after about 45 minutes, I headed out to run some errands, feeling good enough about my efforts on the track that I must not have noticed the strange looks that I'm sure I was receiving. When I went back to pick Jojo up from practice, she, again, looked at me with distress and said "What happened? You look like a racoon with an afro! Were you crying? Why are you limping?"
It's okay, honey, I'm just trying to get healthy.
At this point, I believe I have ruined her for "healthy living" for the rest of her life!
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Are we ready for some football?
Well, Jojo's squad is in the thick of cheerleading season. I say "cheerleading season" this year because Bo has decided not to play football this year. I must admit that I miss seeing him all padded up and headed out on the field. I understand his reasons, i.e., he's on the small side for his age, has fallen in love with LAX and wants to play as much of that as he can to try to earn a spot on the varsity team this spring, etc., etc. But, where my head understands, my heart still feels a little out of sorts.
It's not that I don't enjoy watching Jojo cheer. She's a tiny little thing (frankly, she turned out to be everything I would have picked off the "Make a Girl Baby" menu!), so she is one of the flyers on the team. That means she's front and center, and often about 10 feet in the air! She's good at it and really does like the whole thing: sport, comraderie, attention and admiration. (chuckle) She's a ham and a half! They are getting ready for their first competition in a few weeks, and the sideline cheering has been fun.
Which brings me back to those dang sidelines. So...I've been trying to enjoy watching the sons of other moms and dads out on the grid iron. Naturally, when the girls go into one of their cheers, I join in, shaking my "air pom-poms" and adding my own "woo hoos!" (Probably, much to the horror of my daughter.) In fact, I ran into a work friend on the sidelines at the latest game and found out that his son plays for same team that has Jojo's cheer squad! And now that I know that I have my own surrogate-Bo to root for from the stands, and my darling little girl on the sidelines, I can say: "Yes, I'm ready for some football!
It's not that I don't enjoy watching Jojo cheer. She's a tiny little thing (frankly, she turned out to be everything I would have picked off the "Make a Girl Baby" menu!), so she is one of the flyers on the team. That means she's front and center, and often about 10 feet in the air! She's good at it and really does like the whole thing: sport, comraderie, attention and admiration. (chuckle) She's a ham and a half! They are getting ready for their first competition in a few weeks, and the sideline cheering has been fun.
Which brings me back to those dang sidelines. So...I've been trying to enjoy watching the sons of other moms and dads out on the grid iron. Naturally, when the girls go into one of their cheers, I join in, shaking my "air pom-poms" and adding my own "woo hoos!" (Probably, much to the horror of my daughter.) In fact, I ran into a work friend on the sidelines at the latest game and found out that his son plays for same team that has Jojo's cheer squad! And now that I know that I have my own surrogate-Bo to root for from the stands, and my darling little girl on the sidelines, I can say: "Yes, I'm ready for some football!
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