Salons and Saloons

Daisy had what can only be described as a disastrous haircut yesterday. When she returned from the cut, and I could hear a tremor in her voice as she headed straight for the bathroom mirror, I assumed it might be that the cut was a bit shorter or a bit more layered than she'd hoped, and I followed after her in full faith that, with a bit of encouragement and fawning she'd realize her hair looked perfectly lovely.

Instead, I only gasped. 

Somehow the girl had taken "slight layering" as "cut the top layer of hair, on the right side only, in a choppy fashion, six inches shorter than the under layer". But what was worse (and it would be hard to get worse), she had also, accidentally I can only assume, chopped one large section of the underlying layer at the level of the inches higher top layer so that an entire section of hair seemed to be missing altogether. Daisy was in tears, and I was aghast.

But! We quickly made the best we could of things. I called around and found someone who was available at a fancy salon, and we rushed her in. The lady in the image below did really an amazing job of blending the hair as much as was humanly possible without making Daisy have a short bob. It will still take some growing out to fully remedy, but we also stopped at Seagull Book after and got her a new dress, and, by then, we could almost laugh about it all (though not without continuing to feel flabbergasted by the whole business!)

Starling had insisted on accompanying us to the salon. When she saw a picture hanging on the wall of a girl with pink hair, she was immediately intrigued. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she looked at it and eventually asked, "Mom, could we paint my hair pink?" (And then all the mental exertion of thinking about how to get her own lovely pink hair caused her to promptly fall asleep.)

And, while I sat there, waiting for Daisy with my babiest child sleeping in my arms, I ordered some pink hair chalk.

It arrived today, and Summer and Mette, in their excitement for Starling, immediately opened a "saloon". (I wish, now, that I hadn't corrected their pronunciation so it might have continued a saloon.)

I love those cute little friends. 

Piles of Baskets, 16, and Goldie to the Temple

There is an impressive jumble of miscellaneous baskets piled in our front room. (I didn't realize we had so many baskets! And, further, I fear it might be as when I take down and box up all of our Christmas and Halloween decorations--only to later notice several rogue witches still dangling from the ceiling or a Nativity figure sitting, unnoticed, on a windowsill. Are there even more baskets? Baskets that I, having grown accustomed to their presence, am simply not seeing?) They won't fit logically into boxes of course. And they don't seem to stack within each other in any tidy way. Still. They are gathered. And sitting in a heap in our front room.

Notwithstanding the basket bedlam, the Tinker toys I've packed away and then found more parts to, or the books I keep taking to the basement only to recall that there are no longer any books down there (nor yet a bookshelf at all), we are still experiencing life beyond this impending move. 

Abe just joined a local jiu-jitsu gym, and I'm getting used to his gi, freshly washed from blood and sweat, hanging over the banister to dry.

Daisy has commenced teaching Anders, Summer, Mette, and Hans piano lessons. So far the clever stickers she bulk ordered have proven enough of an incentive to keep them practicing, but we are none of us quite confident enough yet to declare it a long-lasting success. Hopeful though! We are hopeful. (And, having felt guilty for some time for neglecting instruments for the younger kids, I'm incredibly grateful for her brave determination to try!)

Goldie was just hired for a CNA job (despite her looming departure), and we took her to the temple to receive her endowment on Wednesday! She went back again, all on her own, the very next day, which made me happy. She didn't find the ritual and symbolism strange, rather she felt it was exciting to have these cool things as part of her religious experience now!

Penny turned 16!

We celebrated with the thinnest layer of frosting (that strange girl never wants frosting on her cookies or cake!), peppermint ice cream, stew, presents, and, the next day, a driver's license!

Jesse just beat all the other kids in his robotics class in a small electric car race. (We are none of us surprised!) And we just received a card in the mail from his science teacher thanking Jesse for his constant thoughtfulness and helpfulness in class. (This is the general reaction towards Jesse from all of his teachers. He's forever asking me if there's anything he can do to help me, and I think he shows that same kindness towards his teachers.) He didn't go to school today since they'd already signed yearbooks yesterday, but he did dash out in his pajamas early this morning to have his bus driver sign his yearbook. Here he is on a hike with his Teacher's Quorum. And again, with Anders, on a hike Daisy took them on a few days ago.

Anders just finished his report (and accompanying wax museum) on Dr. Suess. Since he gave me about zero notice, I am glad we didn't have to really come up with a costume. ("Just be sure to hold this book as you stand there." I instructed him.) 

Like Anders, Summer, Mette, and Hans are all finishing up another elementary school year. As we got ready this morning, Anders, his voice full of sentiment and loss, said, "This is the last time I'll ever get ready for school in this house."

That's a dangerous path to start down: that path of marking lasts. 😪 It's maybe good that we didn't know to declare all the holidays and birthdays of the past year in this house "lasts".

But, speaking of lasts: little baby girl. Here she is coloring and falling asleep in (and breaking apart) a small doll crib.