Day 300

It's late and I'm tired and tomorrow is going to be a long (but not at all in a bad way - guest lecturing at UVM, Christina's book party, date with Manova and, um, work)... but it's Day 300. How can I skip Day 300? In the interest of capturing things fast, I'm bullet-pointing it. Here's what I discovered today:

• Watching a Presidential debate counts as a bona fide date, as it demonstrates that, indeed, Jon and I are on the same page. And that we each think the other is pretty effing funny. (Even if we're the only ones.)

• Speaking of love (yeah, I was) and crushes: apparently this all starts when you're four-ish. It's then when your "heart starts beating really fast" when you see your favorite girl. The girl that you love more than ice cream but not more than gummies, the one who is approximately 20 years your senior. 

• I don't really want a pixie cut. What I really want is the sort of reverse mullet - party in the front, business in the back (with an little Alfalfa situation at the crown) - that was my last cut. Hannah - if you happen to be reading -  I take full responsibility for this current style ... you perfectly executed my "go short! go short! my hair grows superfast!" direction. But here's a good visual for next time:  

I love this haircut. And these earrings. And the guy on the left.
(The dark under-eye circles and big zit on my neck - not so much.)

Day 217

Today, I chopped my hair - the longest it's been in years - into a pixie. Well, technically Hannah (at Salon Cruz) did. And I think she did an amazing job matching the pic I brought in. 

Do I like it? Yes, I sure do. Do I look better with short hair? Maybe. Maybe not. (Did I shoot the Before picture below, unsmiling in the bathroom at the salon and the After smiling at home in natural light outside on the deck. You betcha. Why? Well either it's because I realized I hadn't taken a before pic and felt too self conscious to do it in public or ... it's because I was magazine editor for so long that I know the after shots need to look much better and happier than the before shots - and so I subconsciously "styled" them accordingly). 

What I do know is that I needed a big change. And my life right now offers only so many opportunities for big changes. So it was either knocking out the kitchen wall to create the open floor plan that I so desire or this. And given that that wall is holding up our house, according to Jon, the structural engineer, lopping off my locks was the safest option. 

No regrets here. 

Before... 

And After... 

Day 216

Dear Kai and Julian,

I am sorry. Sorry I let Dad take you to the Hairy Bear and get your cute surfer-dude do's lopped off into crops that look quite a lot like Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber. (Click. It's worth the laugh.) Of course I still think you are incredibly handsome little men. (I'm your mother. That is part of my job.) But oh how I loved the fringe that fell into your eyes... the little wisps that hung over your ears. The sweet mullets that told everyone... oh, hey...  there's a party out back. But here's the thing: We let you boys play and play hard. So when there are grass stains on your shorts, dirt under your finger nails and bangs that obstruct your vision, people start wondering if you actually have parents. 

Hence, the cuts. 

Don't get me wrong: I don't regret the choice. It had to be done - and before we know it your shorn locks will fill out to the perfect length the way hot coffee cools to the ideal temp... it's a fleeting moment and I'll have to remember to drink it all up before it's gone. Plus, you're both pretty happy about the situation overall... what with those helium-filled balloons--pink for you, Jules (of course), orange for you, Kai--and the choking-hazard lollipops that come free with every cut. 

Sleep tight, my loves. I look forward to your tousled bed heads at breakfast. 

Love,

Your Mom

PS: I'm seriously contemplating a pixie. (That, guys, means a super-short hair cut.) I may look better with longer hair but I'm craving a big change. This super hilarious blog entry (which I ran into, perusing the web for pixie-cut images) might have tipped me into taking action. Might. Have.