The Long and Short of It

  I've given up my fashion snobbery when it comes to the boys clothes, actually purchasing and tolerating them wearing shirts with super-heroes, shoes with lights and jogging pants.  Shudder.
  And my preference for boys hair leans to the high and tight side, which made it difficult to allow Elijah to grow his Justin Bieber locks.  But I did.
  Yesterday he came to me and asked if I would cut his hair short.  I was JUMPING FOR JOY inside but kept a slightly disinterested look on my face and said, "Sure I guess."  I was afraid he might change his mind if he knew it was the highlight of my day.  (Surely something couldn't be good if your mom likes it that much.)
  
He can't flip his hair now and he's had to put up with me  repeatedly telling him how handsome he looks.  


It takes so little to make me happy.

Acting Like a Grown Up

I've had really long, really curly hair for years.
So long that it takes every ounce in the bottle to cover the gray.
And it was getting to that stage where people would think..."Why does that old lady have long hair?" And I do go to a Pentecostal church but not the kind with a long hair requirement, so I decided to have my friend Anita cut it short.














A few snips and I'm no longer a hippie chic.