Mar 19 2009

“I’ve got a ticket come ride with me”

So I guess my 4-day work weeks officially start next week, and I’m- and this is somewhat unexpected- rather relieved and delighted, actually. I think things are going to work out really nicely, all things considered.

And, though I am riding the ridiculous loops of the pregnancy-hormone roller-coaster NON-STOP today, I am really loving that the internet exists, 1) because it’s helping me get my mind off of a few things and 2) because it’s giving me a lot of hope that I can have a different relationship with my daughter than I had with my mother, which is something that, down REALLY deep, I knew before, but it’s nice to see that others have managed it before me.

(Wow- was that all one sentence?)

My mother and I have continued to have a rocky relationship, though we are back on speaking terms. But I have decided that I will try to take the best of how she was a mother to me, and add all of those things that I have always felt were missing to the way I will parent my children. It’s all I can think to do, because no amount of fretting will change my childhood. I can just vow to do my best to be a good mother.

Speaking of good parenting (HA!), Cole managed to cut his own hair last night before I could stop him. He was lingering in the bathroom after using the toilet, and was awfully quiet, which immediately caught my attention. Suddenly, I heard a little *snick* and hollered “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?!” Because I was in the middle of eating my dinner, John jumped up to check and yelled back “HE CUT HIS HAIR.” Shit.

So I got up to see the damage- which, as it turned out, was minimal and not at all obvious if you didn’t know what it looked like before- and John said “How did he even get scissors?”

Um… oops.

See, last weekend, he got a haircut from his barber. While I think she’s awesome and love that she only charges $10 for a cut, I HATE how she does Cole’s bangs. So on Tuesday night I had cornered him in the bathtub and trimmed just a little off the front to make them look more even.

And forgotten to hide the scissors again.

But at least he didn’t get far, and it gave us a chance to do the “NEVER EVER CUT YOUR OWN HAIR” talk without having to, like, shave his head or something because the damage was too bad. And it’s not like we were having family portraits done any time soon, anyway. So really- best-case scenario on this learning opportunity, I think.

What was I saying about trying to be the best parent I can be?