Thank Heaven for Little Girls*

Nine-and-a-half years is a long time.

That's how many years apart these two girls of mine are. Lily is in and out all the time, rushing from school stuff to work stuff to fun stuff, and Eve is usually home. Occasionally, their paths cross, and I love these moments they spend together.

I think Eve even won this game. She's got a wicked good Uno game.

Another night I took both of them and Lily's friend to see a Broadway touring company's version of "Beauty and the Beast."

It was absolutely spectacular--the costumes, the sets, the voices. Eve managed to stay awake for most of it, but I remember she missed the Beast's transformation into the Prince. When the smoke cleared and the lights came up, Lily and I both looked at each other and said, "That's the prince? Meh. A little bit of a disappointment." Guess you can't always have mad dancing and vocal skills AND be drop-dead attractive. But it was the best production of the show I've ever seen.

Ah, little girls. I love being their mom. I love tucking this littlest one into bed at night. I love talking with the bigger one when she comes bursting through the door just before curfew, bubbling over with excitement and adventure to share with me.

*And thank you, Maurice Chevalier. I remember watching Gigi over and over with my mom.

Time to Face the Truth

We've all been there.

 The day when you look at yourself in the mirror and say, "I have to get my hair done . . . NOW!!!!"

I had that day two weeks ago. After scheduling the appointment with a stylist I've never seen before, I spent time on Pinterest with Lily looking at hair colors and styles, trying to decide what to do with my uber straight, uber fine, uber boring hair. I knew that I wanted a little change but nothing too drastic. We pinned a few images to show the stylist and off I went, with my heart full of hope.

The stylist and I talked for a while. She looked at my pins. I explained my pesky cowlick in the center of my forehead. She fingered my hair and gave opinions. I discussed options with her. Then she went to mix the color.

I sent this pic home to Lily. See? I was still smiling.

I told the stylist that I wanted to go darker. I told the stylist I didn't want bangs.

But as the appointment progressed, I realized that my requests fell on deaf ears. After cutting the back, she pulled out the hair dryer, and blond streaks appeared. What part of "darker" involves blond highlights? My flight or fight radar bleeped, but then it receded again. Maybe this would still work out. Things would be ok.

Then things really weren't ok.

She had convinced me that a few layers framing the face would be good, and I was ok with that. She sectioned off the front of my hair and cut it to just below my chin. It's all good. I can handle this. The next cut caused me to sharply inhale and stiffen.

She cut bangs. Not just bangs, but a heavy fringe of bangs. Right across my forehead.

I was speechless.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

How do you answer that question when you're at the mercy of someone with scissors and you most definitely are NOT ok?

"Yeah. I'm fine."

The appointment couldn't end fast enough, and I was so gobsmacked that I couldn't process what had just happened. When Lily heard me enter the house, she rounded the corner and excitedly asked to see. She saw my hair, and knowing what we'd pinned earlier that morning, she immediately knew. She froze, silently assessing my new look. She held out her arms to hug me and said, "Come here, Mom. Did you pay for that?"

Yes, dear. I did.

Brad didn't recognize me from a distance. I sat on the bench at church with my family, and my friends wondered who was sitting with my family. Eve's friend got in the car and she whispered to Eve, "Why does your mom look so weird?" Eve's reply was, "It's because she has bangs. And they aren't going away." It's that different.

It's been almost two weeks now, and I'm ready to face the truth.

I have bangs. For the first time since high school (and the first time since we've been married), I have bangs.

At first, I really hated them. Hated them so much that I hid them under a ball cap or headband for the first few days. But they're beginning to grow on me. I still hate the highlights, and the dark color has already faded, but the bangs? The bangs may be around for a while, much to my surprise.

And I may actually be a teeny bit grateful to a stylist who went completely against my wishes.

Plus, it's just hair. It will grow back.

When Dad's Away

It was our annual Mom/Son weekend. At least that's how I saw it when Brad took Eve on the Daddy/Daughter campout this weekend. Lily had to work and stayed home, but she was so busy that we rarely saw her.

I love these weekends when it's me and just a few of the kids. I let the boys dictate our schedule, and it was testosterone heavy, to be sure.

After stopping at Sonic for Lily (and for dinner and shakes for the boys), we played three rounds of laser tag.

Guess who was the best shot of the three of us? Hyrum. Laser tag is not Mom's favorite activity, but I'd do anything for these two guys.

After laser tag, we made popcorn and watched the first part of Harry Potter 7. The rule in our family is this: before watching the movie, you must read the book. As great as Harry, Ron, and Hermione are on the big screen, they're even better when seen through J. K. Rowling's prose. Hyrum just finished #7, so this was the perfect opportunity to watch the movie without excluding Eve. Hyrum falls asleep easy and early (just like his mom), but he had no problem staying up till almost midnight to finish the movie.

Saturday morning (after dropping Lily off at work again), we ate breakfast at Cracker's, their favorite breakfast anywhere.

Then we were off to the next boy thing--BYU FanFest at Pioneer Park. I didn't think the boys would enjoy this much, but I was happily wrong. It was boy HEAVEN.

They tackled the practice dummies like pros . . .

. . . and passed to their favorite receivers.

Coaching staff mingled around and talked with the kids.

They gave passing pointers and showed the boys the best way to stand.

A few photo ops were sprinkled around, and the boys loved wearing the real jerseys and helmets. Micah insisted on an action shot. That boy loves football right now.

Fans lined up for autographs all over the park--there were football players and basketball players, to be sure, but the most popular? Coach Sitake . . .

. . . and the man I wanted to meet, Ty Detmer.

He is the nicest guy ever.

I'm sure his head was pretty sunburned after standing in the AZ sun for hours on end, talking to fans.

We left the park stoked for this next year's season, especially for the BYU/U of A matchup to kick off the season.

I know Dad and Eve had fun camping, but our weekend was the best ever! 

Going Around Again

This happened so quickly I had to grab my phone and take what I could get. Photos are horrible, but they tell a real story.

You know the feeling, right? The one where you can't get to the toilet fast enough because your stomach is queasy and you're covered in a cold sweat?

The one where you know the only thing that will make you feel better is to lean over the toilet and throw up? But until you throw up, you feel so completely miserable?

That feeling has been circulating through our family again. Eve and Hyrum were both home from school today. I think we've had more sick days this school year than ever before.

It's so hard to be the mom when they feel like that. There's not one thing you can do but encourage them to stay by the toilet and relax--it will be over in a few minutes. She was so afraid she would get throw up on her white dress that she stripped it off . . . and then . . . she felt better.

Here's to this one being quick . . . 

Catching Up--Hyrum's Birthday Party

I can't believe I never posted these pictures from Hyrum's birthday! It's been almost a month . . .

Hyrum waffled back and forth what he wanted to do for his party this year, but in the end, he opted for an epic battle of capture the flag, Percy Jackson style.

For those uninitiated to Percy Jackson's version of capture the flag, it's the same game, but with swords. The kids each made their own weapon out of a PVC pipe covered with a pool noodle. They personalized their sword with duct tape, and then they were ready to battle.

They boys in our neighborhood run in a pack and there's very little distinction by age, which I love. I tried to split the big boys up between the two teams, and then they all battled for dominance.

Heidi's family was here, and Nathan tried to hang with the big kids a few times, but the battle got a little intense for a three-year-old guy.

Hyrum recaptured the flag and rehid it.

The rule was this: if you were hit with the sword, you sat down until someone from your team rescued you. This kept the teams evenly matched.

The girls got into it as well.

Don't you love his face? It was an intense game. You'd think it was for the Queen's jewels!

Trying to prevent the invading team from returning with the flag. They stopped him.

Time for a new strategy.

And Jonah. He was happy to wander with his sword and hit it on the ground.

Sam taught Nathan how to defend himself. That's an important skill in this family.

After a 25-minute detente where neither team could succeed, we called it a draw and started a new battle. The red team lined up on one side of the retention basin . . .

. . . and the blue team lined up on the other.

When I said, "GO!" both teams sprinted for their own weapon in the middle.

This was capture the flag, Hunger Games style. And there was no rule about getting out if you got hit, and the winning team had to get their opponent's flag to me.

I was hiding on the other side of the park. This version went a lot faster, but it was too brutal and a little too lawless.

The kids didn't like it quite as much. It was good for them to see that the rules that had frustrated them so much the first time were missed the second time. There's a life lesson in there somewhere . . .

And my cute grandkids. Jonah is so pigeon-toed that he often trips himself when he's running fast. I love it!

And Nathan was trusted with the winning flag!

By the end, all the kids were red-faced, sweaty, tired, thirsty, and thoroughly satisfied with their afternoon's escapade. This was a great party--a good way to bridge the gap between ages, and after all was said and done, they left as buddies (even if they were a little banged up).

We took the entire family to dinner that night, and the best place I could think of for that many crazies was Golden Corral. It's not my favorite, but it is Hyrum's favorite, and it was his birthday!

Lily with her nieces. She works hard to be their favorite auntie, and these two sometimes are selfish with their affection.

But not little Thomas. He just sits and looks at the world, happy with whoever will hold him.

It was a fantastic day, and as I tucked my littlest boy into bed that night, he hugged me tight and said, "Thanks for the best birthday ever, Mom. I love you."

That makes it worth every second.