I am bound and determined to be Susie Homemaker. And everybody knows that one of the things a Susie Homemaker must do is cut her family’s hair.
This I do.
However, it is also required that Susie Homemaker does a GOOD JOB at the aforementioned hair cutting.
This I don’t.
The other night, I decided to cut my boys’ hair. My number one goal is to give them a “handsome cut.” With scissors, not clippers. Little Dude turns into a monster when you try to cut his hair, so he gets buzzed, it cannot be helped. Handsome Dude, who knows he is handsome, is willing to sit for a bit so he can look that much more charming. I finished his cut and was all proud of myself. I may have even boasted to my beloved regarding my styling awesomeness.
But the next morning . . .
Seriously? Can you see all the cut marks? Awful! Dreadful! Susie Homemaker would be so disappointed in me.
Attention Homemakers Who Are Worthy of the Title: Do you have any tips for me on hair-cutting? I need help.
In other news, let’s talk about mud.
Mud. It is the scourge of my existence. It has defeated me and I shall never recover. Since David is a bulldozing maniac, all are lands are filled with mud. Need I remind you that I have four children and two large-ish dogs?
I found a bunch of this matter on my carpets.
Is it poop or mud? You be the judge.
If you go with the former, you could also be the judge of whether or not it is:
A) Dog Poop
B) Rabbit Poop
C) Deer Poop
This was my bed after the dudes sat on it.
Good times. Good times with mud.
It is a gorgeous, albeit muddy day here in Ruralville. It is a sweltering 50 degrees, so Daisy Mae broke out the shorts and flipflops. Because she has good thinking skills (or skillz if you prefer).
The astute reader will take time to notice the mud and recall that I was justified in saying that mud was the scourge of my existence. But I digress.
Little Dude asking me for new pants.
Because he “accidentally” got mud over them. Notice him standing by his father’s equally clean work boots.
Notice his father left his work boots on the carpets.
Notice how Little Dude cannot put his socks on correctly.
Notice Little Dude’s bum.
Notice how the front door has been left wide open.
This is because Daisy Mae has announced summer’s arrival.
And now, a few random bits of nothing.
I hope you have your party pants on.
1) This morning while the boys were getting dressed I heard much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
Little Dude: James! James! James! I want James on my bum!
Handsome Dude: Sorry! It’s my turn! James is on my bum! Ha!
This convo shocked me. And rightfully so. Turns out they were fighting over Thomas the Train underwear that featured a train named James. Good times.
Yes. We have community underwear. Don’t you?
2. Mother called me from work today on speaker phone.
Mom: Taylor! Can you hear me? You’re on speaker phone!
Me: Ok?
Mom: I need to know if you know what a Jell-O shot it?
Me: Um . . . Am I going to be in trouble if I say yes?
Mom: So you know what it is?
Me: Yes.
Mom: Shoot. I just lost a bet.
Me: Does it help if I tell you I have never had one?
Mom: Now I have to buy someone lunch. Alright. Bye.
3. Was not that convo from my mother odd? Can we not all agree?
4. Luckily, David just told me what Jell-O shots were last week when I suggested making Jell-O with Sierra Mist.
You learn something new every day.
5. I was helping Daisy Mae with a lesson today. As I am wont to do. The question was true or false. I asked her the question.
Daisy Mae: That’s right, so false!
6. If anyone wants to nominate me for any homeschooling mom awards, let me know.
7. Handsome Dude is currently singing a song he made up all by himself.
It goes:
“What does Mommy love? Snacks!”
8. I was a bit miffed at him, since I am so healthy and rarely eat junk. But then I saw the salsa in the fridge and got all handsome on some chips and salsa.
Well-played, Handsome Dude. Well-played.
9. A bounty hunter called David this weekend to inform him they are performing a stakeout at our rental house for some alleged illegal activity.
So, that’s fun.
10. This is the sort of Tom Foolery that goes on in these here parts:
Sweet Pea weaved Handsome Dude’s glasses into a blanket. Because, have you heard? We love to go get glasses repaired.
Alright. I must go. I am sure there is something and or someone to clean/wipe/feed/discipline.
Oh, look.
Mud.
That’s odd.
Please be advised: I completely and unabashedly stole the phrase “The Scourge of My Existence” from my pretend-friend Erin.
I am sure she is cool with it.
Methinks you should get mud-colored carpet. Then if mysterious brown substances are found on it, it will be with the naked foot as opposed to the naked eye! BTW. If you figure out how to grow cinnamon roll trees, let us know!
You should get a Pulitzer or some other fancy writing award for this post. I related on so many levels.
I have been cutting my husband’s hair for fourteen years. I still get all anxious and stressy about it, and feel like I have grown the opposite of Edward Scissorhands. Left-handed scissorhands, since I never (despite being left-handed) learned how to use left-handed scissors.
The worst is cutting my son’s hair – he likes to try to wipe the itchy hair off his face with the hairy cutting cape. Or lick it off. That always goes well.
I usually clip the back and get all handsome with the scissors on the top. And whack away blindly at the front – I really never know what to do with their ‘bangs’ or whatever they’re called on guys and my husband has a really narrow face so it matters!
Also we still have snow. But mud is nigh.
And I let the girls duke it out over undies – they could easily share but I think they have both claimed their favourites.
Finally (is there some kind of comment length limit which I have obviously exceeded), regarding the true/false dealio, my husband told me that when he was in elementary school, his teacher taught him greater than/less than incorrectly. She told her entire class that it should look like this 5 < 3 because you are supposed to POINT at the larger number. When I feel inadequate as a homeschooler, I like to remember that little anecdote.
Harboring a fugitive????? Oh. My. Word. Your crazy life just gets crazier and crazier. Where, pray tell, is your mud room? Don’t all homes out in Ruralville have them? I think this should be a requirement. You could learn to be like my mom. She had this dealio (Angela^) about sand. I grew up in Sandy Eggo, err, I mean San Diego. Whenever we went to the beach she made us disrobe out in the garage in front of the washing machine so that we wouldn’t track the dreaded sand into the house. But I am really not sure how to go about getting your dogs to disrobe, so I am probably not much help here.
I was next to the brides mom at a wedding reception and after the mom had three jello ‘cups’ she looked at me and said ‘These are so good, they almost feel like they have alcohol in them’ I said ‘They do-vodka’. She had no clue-it was hilarious.
Have a great weekend …steer clear of the law!
i sure hope you didn’t blow the sting by alerting the people in your rental property. if i were your husband, i would go tomorrow to collect rent before it is too late! but tell him not to forget to announce himself first…loudly!
We have Jell-O shots when we go camping. I was under the impression that all campers had Jell-O shots around the campfire after the wee ones went to bed. Have I been mislead?
At Christmas, someone brought pudding shots, too… those were also yummy.
I’ll give you a homeschool award as soon as I create a homeschool website, complete with awards. Enjoy 🙂
We may or may not have community underwear in our house.
I am a Homemaker Worth of the Title, and I have a piece of advice for you: pay someone else. I went down that Susie Homemaker Can Cut Hair Too road and wanted to drive off the cliff every time. My friend Amy who does my hair charges $5 per kid. Worth. Every. Penny.
How did Handsome Dude age 2 years since you last posted a picture of him?
*Worthy
(Thought apparently not worthy of the title of Spelling Queen.)
Please keep us apprised regarding the stakeout sitch..
I’m pretty sure “scourge of my existence” is not my original craftsmanship, thus I am quite happy to share it. I’m certain I have partaken from your word-repertoire as well.
But I do take offense at being called a pretend friend! I thought we were for realz.
Are we only pretend friends because I have personal experience with jello shots? I know you’re disappointed in me, but I’ve mended my ways.
But if we’re confessing, I might also be guilty of a keg stand or two.
And possibly streaking.
But I’m totally on the straight and narrow now. Oh, and don’t tell my kids.
I’m pretty sure “scourge of my existence” is not my original craftsmanship, thus I am quite happy to share it. I’m certain I have partaken from your word-repertoire as well.
But I do take offense at being called a pretend friend! I thought we were for realz.
Are we only pretend friends because I have personal experience with jello shots? I know you’re disappointed in me, but I’ve mended my ways.
But if we’re confessing, I might also be guilty of a keg stand or two.
And possibly streaking.
But I’m totally on the straight and narrow now. Oh, and don’t tell my kids.
Rit dye. Dye all household soft furnishings brown.
All little boys are expected to have evidence of a hair cut after a hair cut It’s proof that they had a hair cut. But if you really want to try what a barber does, here’s what one showed me once:
When cutting the back hair on males: Using the skinny end of the barber comb in one hand and the scissor or running (meaning ‘on’) clipper in the other hand, run the skinny part of the comb up the back hair so the hair sticks out over the comb AND clip off a teeny bit of the hair along the edge of the comb.
This is a “cut in motion operation” with both hands moving at the same time, one up while combing and the other up while cutting/clipping. Takes a bit of practice.
Do this several times, starting at the neckline and moving the comb and clipper (or comb and scissor) up towards the top of the head each time, but stopping at the point where the hair gets longer.
You are doing this to blend in the previous cuts, and it only takes two or three little passes with the comb and scissor.
I am laughing so hard imagining the conversation your mom was having that led to that phone call!
FYI – according to my husband who worked in a bar in his youth, Jell-o shots are often eaten off of other people’s stomachs.
If your mom calls next week with THAT question you’re all prepared.
Since you didn’t know what a Jello-Shot was, I’d guess you weren’t versed in “Ways for Girls who hate beer to drink in *ahem* College.”
Other items your mom may call to ask if you’ve ever tried. . .
Body Shots, Zima with Jolly Ranchers, Keg Stand, Beer Pong, Quarters, P and A, “I’ve Never” and Strip Candyland. (That last one was a local joke, so It is the only one I haven’t done)
#1-we are newly home from our visit to the Land of Mud. We are now back in the Land of Sun and my children are laying out in the grass on towels, playing “camping” with their dolls. wanna come visit?
#2-it is part of my marriage contract that I must cut the hubby’s hair. (he has to mow the grass…) clippers around the neck and ears – you can adjust the length of the cut on most electric shears – and scissors closer to the top. Once, maybe 14 years ago, one of hub’s co-workers asked him where he got that nifty trim, it looked so nice. (!) That haircut has not been achieved again. So, maybe it’s practice, maybe it’s luck?
#3-now you need to invite your folks over for a little weekend fun with jello shots. you could make them with Sierra Mist if you want to. 😉
I have also tried to cut my three boys’ hair with similar results. I also hate mud that is all Illinois has given us this winter. My two youngest boys have “community” underwear. I truly thought we were the only ones with that one. Love it!