Is this getting out of control?

It's becoming untamable.  unmanageable.  It's takes a lot of tears to comb through it in the morning (if we are that ambitious) and gets undone with one wind gust, game of tag, or TV viewing on the couch.  Basically, if you just look at it, it contorts itself into a knotty mass of curly misery.  Needless to say we have a hairy little problem.  (Did you notice my restraint in waiting to use that pun until the middle of the paragraph?)  The problem is that every time I mention going to get a haircut, Hailey yells bloody murder and treats it as if it were like unto child abuse.  I am working out a few plans on how to finally get her to cut her hair, but precious few of them are absent of blindfolds and/or sedatives. . .

Nora Chillin'

The Disclaimer is that John Didn't Think it was Funny at All.

I was cleaning off my desktop this morning and found this. I thought I needed to post it so I don't let the two minutes of photoshop MAGIC go to waste. The story is that John's ten year reunion was coming up, and they emailed him and asked him to send a current family photo for some memory book. We didn't have a very current family photo that didn't involve boogers, dirt, or naked children, so I suggested we get one taken. John was completely resistant to that idea, and told me I could send them whatever picture I wanted as long as he didn't have to spend any time on it. So this is the product of his flippant suggestion: the Gilbreth's as Jolie-Pitts. I know it's not funny and you can't even tell who the family is supposed to be, but I laughed my head off at my creation. Needless to say, John didn't let me send it, and there's a big fat blank spot next to John's name in his high school memory book, I guess.

Haiku

Title: Nora makes me cranky in the morning

She yells from her crib
Before the sun's even up
"Go Diego Go!"

The disappearance of Now-ee

I have never been big into indulging baby-talk, even in babies. I talked to Hailey endlessly in grown-up dialog way way before she could say "What does that mean, Mom?" Part of that was probably attributed to the fact that proper grammar was emphasized in my home growing up, the other part was probably because I was lonely and wanted a grown-up to talk to and was afraid I would forget how to speak like one. (Another big chunk is probably because I am not silly enough, something I am really trying hard to work on. Hailey is my coach, making me be her dance partner when she watches Cinderella or Dancing with the Stars.)

I constantly correct Hailey when she says aminals, or pasketti, or pacuter. It really doesn't make a difference, but I do it anyway. The only exception has been Hailey's pronunciation of cemetery, which she called "nes-e-fary." Way too funny to correct. I honestly don't think I've given her a complex with all the correction, and her only consistent mess-up is aminals nowadays, so. . . it must be working, right?

This was my view of baby-talk until Nora started talking and referring to herself as Now-ee. This is about as saccharin-sweet as you can get, but when Nora looks in the mirror, grins, points and yells Now-eeeee! it grows on you. As a knee-jerk reaction, I at first tried to correct her (shame!) and let her know it was Nora in the mirror instead, but the name has stuck. John calls her Now-ee, and now Hailey and I use the nickname. The pronunciation must make sense to her though: Momm-y, Dadd-y, Haile-y. . .

Yesterday, Now-ee was gone. I picked up Nora out of her crib, and she looked into the mirror and said, "Hi Nora!" A surprising thing happened to me. I was just so sad. I am usually so proud to hear a new word or a word said better, but I asked her, "You mean Now-ee, right? Where's Now-ee?" (So unlike me to propagate poor pronunciation.) She responded by pointing to herself and declaring "Nora" as if she were affirming to me that she had just grown up and Now-ee was just too silly for her now. I'm sure John will still call her Now-ee and the nickname will stick around here for a while, but to me, Now-ee has disappeared. Now that she's ditched the name herself, it just ain't cute anymore.

Have you ever wondered what we bake around here?

Hailey ran into the bedroom where I was folding clothes and told me, "Mom, we need to grow some weed!"

"Wha?" Where did this come from? Did I really miss the boat on talking to Hailey about abusive substances before the age of five?

"We need to grow some weed. I saw some people on TV growing some really pretty plants called weed on TV. They were beautiful and I would like to grow some myself." Now I'm wondering what channel I left the TV on. I was pretty sure it was on PBS, but they are getting more liberal nowadays . . .

I asked her where she would like to grow the weed. "I would like to plant it on our front lawn. There is room out there, but I think the other kids might take it and use it before I do. Maybe I can grow it in my bedroom right by the window so it gets enough sun." Panic is setting in for me. There is already a demand in preschool. I need to be more careful about who Hailey talks to outside our apartment complex. I try stay casual and ask her, "What will you use it for?"

"Mom," Hailey says in an exasperated tone, "to make some bread. We need weed and water and salt to bake bread." (The punchline of this story is that Hailey thought "weed" was "wheat" --Signed, Master of the Obvious.)

So, if you ever receive a loaf of bread from us in the near future, you may want to check with Hailey about what ingredients are in it. You'll either enjoy the loaf a whole lot more or a whole lot less.