Another milestone our baby book makes us note: 80′s first haircut.
Before:
It wasn’t so much a haircut as a trimming of a few wispies in front of her eyes. I was hoping they’d grow long enough to sweep to the side (thus giving us the same haircut), but that never happened. They’re so thin and sparse that a barrette (which fits into the choking hazard category) slowly slides down her head.
After:
See how much more passive and docile she is with a haircut? It’s just like wild animals. Oh, you didn’t know that? Oh yeah, you just have to wrestle a fox down to the ground and give it a trim.
Last week was rough, and I took Mary and Laura’s offer (in the comments of the last post — reason enough to blog right there) to come down to Fairhaven and New Bedford to visit. There are no photos to commemorate the event, but it was a great day. Here’s 80, all dressed up in the romper my aunt Sharon made her*, before we got in the car.
We left at 9:30, and 80 napped in the car the whole way there. We met up with Laura for a walk to the library (my former workplace) and lunch at Elizabeth’s**. We talked birth and babies, as Laura is going to be giving birth in the next few weeks.
Then 80 and I drove to New Beige to visit Mary and her fabulous family. I’m not using superlatives lightly. Jason and I agree that Mary and KC are the best parents we know. We channel them when we are stuck on a parenting decision. I made several covert observations while I was there, for future use. If 80 turns out like any of her children, I’ll be delighted. Mary’s youngest and 80 are very close in age, and got to meet for the first time. They mostly did the year-old thing of playing around each other, but not really with each other. 80 napped while I hung out with the family and ate various delicious crackers.
80 and I drove home after her nap, which I was nervous about. She’s in a rear-facing carseat, and I was driving alone, so it’s a long hour if something is bothering her. At first she was kind of cranky, but after I started feeding her a steady stream of snacks, she was happy the whole way home.
We ate dinner, Jason came home, we played on the porch. 80 was in such a great mood, fun and funny and …
I can hear 80 right now, awake in her crib, and I hear velcro. She’s wearing just a diaper so you’ll have to excuse me.
*YES, THAT’S HOMEMADE. My aunt Sharon is a fabric whisperer.
**I had pesto and almond encrusted haddock, for you foodies.
On top of everything else, I lost the post I wrote. Life is hard. 80′s sick, teething and changing her nap habits. It was rainy all week, and the library (my sanctuary) is closed on Thursdays.
Here’s an email I just sent to a couple of local friends who I’m not scared to be in my pajamas in front of:
“Jason and I have been finding ourselves not only awake, but *ready to roll* at 7 am on the weekends. Going to the Watertown Diner has been our go-to, but sometimes we just want something easy/free to do. We figured you may be in a similar situation.
Why stare sleepily at your bouncy child, when you could be drinking coffee and hanging out with us? If you’re interested, let me know. I’ll text you if we’re without plans. There doesn’t need to be elaborate breakfast, just whatever bread as toast, whatever coffee, whatevers. We will probably not be showered, and possibly in pjs. I promise we’ll wear pants.
80′s hair is as fine and sparse as her mother’s at her age.
The hair on the top of her head is getting long enough to get in her eye, so despite the fact that she otherwise doesn’t need it (and in fact, her hair can’t support anything heavier), she’s wearing a barrette today.
We inherited a grill with our place, and although we’ve owned the place for a year, we finally got around to using it. (It’s like we were busy last summer or something.)
I discovered that the grill is locked to a bush, which probably explains why it’s still there. (Actually, our neighborhood is polite and ignores when you forget to put your stroller away for a few days.)
Anyway, the lock. It was a combination lock. A FOUR DIGIT combination lock. Rats! Three digits, and Jason and I could have sat outside in lawn chairs, drinking beer and going through the combinations (000, 001, 002). Four digits, and you’re talking about a lot of beer.
I emailed the previous owner, who said she didn’t specifically remember, but try 1111 or 1313. I started with 0000.
That was it. Seriously. The satisfaction of the lock popping open on the first try evoked in me a self-chuckle that sounded like a cartoon villain running into the woods after tying the damsel to the tracks.
I was behind this bush, cackling, right as someone walked by. On the other side of the bush.
She said, “Oh! I thought the bush made that noise.”