Tag Archives: Hair

You may call me Pavlov: Meet my dogs

The dogs

Kids, kids, kids.   I have three.  I did not know what the heck I was doing when my first beauty came into the world and whether or not I currently do remains open for debate.  But one thing is for sure…it’s an experimental process! 

With my first, I was mid-twenties and in a totally different state of mind than when number tres rolled around.  In my second decade of life I reacted to things that now fail to trigger so much as a raised eyebrow. 

What kinda things?   Oh, cleaning, house-hold chores, tasks, sleep, and public opinion were a few.  Public opinion was a biggie.  It is common knowledge that my daughter inherited some spicy DNA and delights in her ability to fire things up.  In our home we were and are very real.  We tell it like it is.  However, as a newbie mom I was afraid that she may offend strangers with her outspoken ways.  

When she would remark that she felt the cashier lady was scary-witch looking, inquire if she was going for THAT look or ask a random stranger why their nose was so large,  I would immediately and publically shut her down with “don’t say that” or another similar reprimand and then later follow it up with the infamous “what will they think?!?”  Or I would attempt to “explain” her remarks away with a “what she meant was….” as she stood there, brows furrowed in confusion.  She would even interject an occasional “no, that is NOT what I meant!”

I would correct her before her behavior actually warranted it if I believed that a stranger would not approve of what she was doing.   When my second bambino came along two years later, it was more of the same.  As a result I began to notice that they were developing my immature ‘fear of man.’  Sorry kids for the state of confusion I caused and the counseling you’ll likely require later!

Enter number tres when I was in my mid-thirties and my maturity sky rocketed…at least that is what I like to tell myself.  I became enlightened and did a complete 180.  Also I believe that I plugged into my inner scientist and embarked on an experimental journey. 

The experiment was one of total abandonment concerning public opinion.  I did not and do not police his (or his now older siblings – better late than never!) public behavior.  I teach sensitivity and how to avoid mean-spirited comments, instill consideration regarding the feelings of others, instruct proper manners and social norms and above all I demonstrate love.  But once we are out and about….it’s hands off!  Ok, ok, within reason.  If he’s foaming at the mouth and acting like an animal then he will most definitely feel some interventional hands.

Number tres favorite ride at local park...Hang on!

Wow, has it been a ride!!  Number tres is totally free and unbridled.  There is not a mean bone in his skeletal frame-work yet some of his remarks are, well, truthfully blunt.  He informed a woman she looked much older and had more wrinkles than the last time he saw her (she did)….asked another why her home was a junkie-mess when we stopped by to visit (it was)….told another she had terrible body odor (she did)….inquired of the hair stylist whether or not she did her hair like that on purpose or if she just had a rough sleep…was intrigued when a man’s butt kept “sucking up” his pants and asked how he got his butt to do that cool trick…….

What did you say?!?

I must admit that sometimes I want to hide!  But I simply smile the most forced smile I can muster, give a little shrug and move on!

Clenched teeth, forced smile....wonder what he said?

Now….if only I could master behavior manipulation with the ring a bell…..

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How do you spell relief?!?

“OH what a relief!” the older woman shouted dramatically as she nearly plowed me over to grab the last bottle of Aqua Net, the glue for her doo.  “I don’t know what I’d do without this” she cooed while her already distressed hair groaned.  Aqua Net, a relief?  Not in my book where I tend to prefer non-brillo pad hairstyles.  However, several ideas began to quickly slam into my mental solace screaming what I would consider to be a true relief.  Not in any particular order, but rather randomly as they barraged me, they are…….     

Just add more clothing and female parts and there I am!

  •         Sleep:   Ahhh, pillows, sheets, comforter…my bed.  I can put away the hours like a fraternity kid downing beers at a keg party.  I have slept through earth shattering thunder storms, booming fireworks, and sadly even my children’s cries in the middle of the night.  I am a professional when it comes to sound sleep.  I have always been this way and can not blame hormones or any event for my sleep habits.  My camera happy dad even captured [what he thought was] a Kodak moment of me crashed out in bed after a grueling shift at MickeyD’s during my high school days.  Considering that the photo was taken during my high school era explains why I was not concerned with the condition or hygiene of my sheets and collapsed back first into my bed…still clothed in my grease infused uniform complete with the matching visor which was still intact on my spit drooling head.  The aroma of the hamburger and french fry perfume I bathed in each shift was enough to draw out even the most timid mouse as it wafted through my room.  I would deny this greased sheet occurrence had Dad not Kodak captured the moment.  I have decided to own it and own it proudly.  

  • Tea: I am a tea junkie.  A tea freak.  Tea is my crack.  Tea is my friend.  Tea spells the ultimate relief.  I am a picky tea crack head though.  I will not randomly gulp tea for the sake of a fix. As I wrote in this blog before, my tea has to be just right.  I must mix the sugar and the milk to perfection.  Those who know me know to  forgo hospitality and simply provide me with the goods and I will crank out a cup of my own personal awesomeness. Recently while in the Middle East we were able to have tea with the nomadic Bedouins in their tent.  We reclined in the middle of the desert on reclining mats in Mr. Bedouin’s big tribal tent as Mr. Bedouin passed out small amounts of tea in dirty cracked cups to match his less than clean, weathered and worn hands.  I felt myself begin to twitch.  My mind was processing information about less than adequate sanitation, cracks that harbor bacteria and the many saliva coated lips that had slid across that cup before mine faster than my heart was beating.  Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead as I politely raised the tainted cup to my lips with shaking hands.  Holding my breath I quickly ‘one-gulped’ the tea, trying to abide by the 5 second rule, as I nodded and forced a “MMMMmmm” and a smile.  When asked why I drank the tea I responded that I am not a snob and we were in the middle of a Middle Eastern desert with Middle Eastern Arabs, in the middle of the desert with Arabs….Refusing did not seem like a viable option.  Plus, my son was with me and it is a known fact that actions speak louder than words.  I can’t speak about loving people and embracing different cultures while demonstrating the opposite with tea snobbery.  Down the hatch was the only option for the tea housed in a cracked dirty cup prepared by hands with filthy finger jam.   I won’t even discuss the pita bread and how those hands, which were in need of a good dose of GermX, violently and forcefully molested the dough. 

As real as she gets

  • Realness:  Not a word? Well, for me it is.  It’s one of my made up ones that I use frequently.  Like Relationshipinal.  I made that word up and use it when a movie is jammed packed with tons of relationships and all that good stuff.  Realness is being real, who I am in total rawness.  I love the o’natural state of being.  I feel like an animal at the zoo living in my natural habitat and many days I look like one too.  Nothing feels more relieving than a shower to hose off all the make-up.  I can rock out the messy bun giving Peebles a run for her bone (Flintstone style).  I love to don the loose, comfy clothes and ‘let it all hang out.’  Well, that last statement just sounded good because truth be told, there is not much to ‘hang out.’ So while I may be raw and animal like, absent are any free hanging anatomical parts to gross out spectators and cause small children to ask their parents difficult questions.  

I love you

  •  Reading: I love books and books love me.  I added the last point because my mom drilled into our heads “you can’t love something that doesn’t love you back!”  Books are filled with love and I enter my version of literary heaven propped up on the couch in the ‘book zone.’  I can silence the world around me with amazing talent.  Ok, so maybe not silence but the vocals of those who try to engage in unwanted conversation while I am engrossed in my latest obsession, tend to take on the sound of Charlie Brown’s teacher. Waa-waaa-waaa-waa-wa.   Yes, I am a book geek.   I can fly through a book freakishly fast.  In fact, if I were a mutant speed reading would be my power.  Boring?  Stop being a hater.

I’m sure I could go on but for the sake of my numb backside (stupid acrylic nails I had applied for a wedding turned me into Edward Sissorhand typer) and your ocular relief, I’m calling this a wrap.  I have to achieve some realness with my nails, make a cup of tea, read my latest infatuation and get some zzzzzzzzzzzzzz’s.   I’m curious….How do you spell relief?

Roar!

And I thought I had bad hair days…whew, man somebody help this guy! The next time I begin to think about my hair and any thoughts of chopping it off, this image will immediately jump out in my mind.  No doubt causing roars of amusement. 

All the stress of the day has melted away in my laughter.  Thanks Donald, at least that hair is good for something.

donald

Meow!