I mentioned yesterday that I had a couple of stories about the kids – as usual.
Nate took these photos of Emily this past weekend. Check out the princess dress up shoes:
To start with, we had a small adventure/incident with Emily. I say ‘adventure’ because it wasn’t really that big of a ‘thing’ but to me it was and it was something I have always feared. (Don’t worry, all is fine!)
On Sunday morning, I sat down with Emily to comb her hair. I had put it in a pony tail the day before and it was mostly pulled out and pretty messy. I saw a big tangle and started on that.
The ‘tangle’ came out in my hand. A fairly large clump of hair!
I freaked! I called for Nate, telling him that either we had a serious medical issue (my first thought was that Emily was losing hair!!) or someone had taken scissors to her hair and it had been cut out.
Upon further inspection, I realized that Emily did not have any bald spots, so – to my relief – that ruled out any health problems. That also left: scissors.
We called Nathan and asked him if he had cut Emily’s hair. He said no. I believed him, I can usually tell if he’s trying to sneak one past me.
We asked Emily if she had cut her own hair. She said no.
I decided to word the question a little differently – “Emily did you take scissors to your hair?”
“Oh! Yes, I did!”
Well, there’s our culprit. Emily got scissor happy and snipped a nice chunk of her own hair off. It makes sense because she’s been very interested in scissors lately. I always (ok I always try to) keep them out of her reach, but she must have gotten ahold of a pair. Sometime between Saturday evening and Sunday morning.
That has always been one of my fears – that she/Nathan/someone else would cut Emily’s hair. You always hear stories of siblings getting ahold of scissors and giving each other haircuts. Or doing it to themselves. I was always afraid that would happen to Emily. I love her hair. It is so pretty and it’s getting longer and thicker where I can finally do a lot of fun things with it.
And it finally happened.
It could have been a lot worse. She could have sheared off the entire pony tail or a good chunk of the length! As it is, the damage is a nice clump out of the top right side of her head. And she has enough hair that I can generally cover it up, depending on how I do her hair. Of course, if I put it back in a ponytail, pieces stick straight up on that side. As evidenced in this picture I took this morning – look on the left side, see the bits sticking up?:
Recently, I’ve had a problem with him dumping his glass of milk down the drain at lunchtime. He knows he is supposed to drink his milk, but I’ve caught him (or seen the evidence in the sink) many times trying to get out of it. I’ve warned him sternly that he’s not supposed to do that – milk is good for him, he needs to drink it, it isn’t cheap, blah blah blah. Isn’t not that he dislikes milk, he just hasn’t felt like drinking it. That’s all.
So about a week or two ago, I was in the kitchen cleaning up while Nathan was supposed to be finishing up said glass of milk. He says to me:
“Mom, can you please go? I don’t want you to see me dump my milk in the sink!”
At least he’s honest. Right?
We were upstairs – the kids were playing, I was organizing some things in my room. I had asked Nathan to run downstairs a few times – to bring something down, to bring something up to me. Basically saving me the escrutiating trip up and down multiple times (as I said yesterday, I am having a hard time walking due to pretty bad pelvic/hip/PBS pain.) And taking advantage of his seemingly endless supply of energy.
I needed some scissors so I called Nathan away from his train set and asked him to run downstairs and get them. He came in, I made my request, and he started down the stairs. I heard him saying to himself “I am getting really frustrated now!” When he came back with the scissors, I asked him why he was frustrated. He said “Because you keep making me go downstairs many times!” I told him that I really appreciated him doing that and that he was a really great big helper for me. He said “Ok, but I am NOT going to be a good helper after this!”
The way he said it was so funny. It wasn’t at all in a belligerent tone of voice. Just a matter of fact way like a guy would say.
And a closing picture – after a busy day, I found Emily asleep on the living room floor – with her puppy of course: