Why I refuse To Cut My Son's Hair

For a long while in my life I got my hair thinned. I don't really know why, except that every stylist I ever had recommended that I do. So I did.

Then at one point in my life I thought to myself, "Why thin my hair when I have such awesome thick hair? Some women would kill for hair as thick as mine." So I stopped. I thought that this is what I was born to have so I should embrace it.

Yes my hair is ridiculously thick. Like crazy thick. I can't use clips or pin it up easily. I break tons of hair ties. My hair stylists always stand in shock and awe at the pile I leave on the floor, even after only a trim. And my poor sister-in-law who is now my only stylist has her work cut out for her when I get my hair colored. It takes hours. Like literally from 10am to 3pm. Not a joke. But at least it gives us time to spend with just the two of us. So there's a bonus in that.

My son was blessed with the same thickness. He gets compliments on his hair all the time. His hair is spectacular! He really has the most amazing blond hair, complete with natural highlights of red and brown. It is truly just gorgeous. It's a bear to manage for sure. After any sleep he has bed head that would put Wil Wheaton's to shame. It's difficult to wash and rinse because it's so thick too. The water just tends to bead off, leaving the underparts dry as a bone. It requires movement to get the water down to the scalp.

I have had it cut several times and cut it myself even a couple. If I had not, who knows how long it would be now. But I can't do it anymore. He just doesn't seem to me like the kind of boy that has a crew cut. His plump face looks too grown up with short short hair. My heart breaks too much when it disappears. He likes it long. I like it long. And why wouldn't we want him to have something he can appreciate when he is so blessed with such a gorgeous mane?

Boys can have long hair. It doesn't bother me one bit. Boys can wear earrings in both ears and I don't care. It doesn't even phase me. But some older people become very annoyed at the sight of my son's thick, wavy locks. They encourage me to cut it or ask me when I will. And I simply say no. Why would I do that to him? Why would I try to make him something he is not? He is old enough now to tell me whether he wants his hair cut. And he does. The last time we got it cut, it was because he wanted to. I didn't, but he did.

I won't cut it. I don't know at what point I will encourage it. Maybe never. I don't see me doing the 'man bun' to him though. I don't know. But I love him just the way he is. I love his massive head of hair. He's the best.

Find The Things That Light You Up & Do Them!

Find what you need and do it.

I hate getting up early in the morning, but in order for me to be my best self, I have to spend some time with my mat in the morning. It helps me focus, opens my heart, awakens my body, and opens my mind. I don't know what it is about yoga. I know a lot of people that don't get the same feeling from it that I do. But here's the thing...it lights me up.

If you have something that lights you up inside why aren't you doing it? The everlasting excuse is "I don't have time". Well I say, boo. You have to make time for things that are important to you. You just have to. Sure you're going to have to probably sacrifice something else, but weigh your options. Which is better?

I lose a little bit of sleep, but my return is so much greater. By doing yoga in the morning I can really be present in my life. I don't feel broken or like a zombie. It's vital to my quality of life.

If you have something that brings your heart joy, then do it. It's important that you take care of your own self. Otherwise you are no good to anyone else. Until we face ourselves and do for ourselves what we might do for a stranger, we are only going to be under the control of our demons. And we should not allow them to win! Beat them down!

Sometimes I worry about sharing that I do yoga every morning. That I wake up early in order to do so. I know there are going to be some people out there who resent me for it, or possibly feel like I'm trying to make them feel lesser. But I truthfully don't. I am just sharing something that I am so passionate about. I totally get that not every person is going to do what I do. I'm not special. I'm not important. I just do what I do and sometimes I get excited about it.

So please don't feel like I'm ever trying to make you feel bad. What I want for you is joy. I want you to look in the mirror each day love yourself. Because I know what it's like to feel the pain of self hate. And I know there are a ton of people out there who know what I'm talking about. I just want to help people find their little joys, things that make them feel alive, special, loved. I want everyone to feel that. Life is so short. It's not right for us to spend it hating who we are.

Sometimes I Feel Like My Inner Demons Are Too Loud

Lately I have found myself slipping in confidence. Maybe it's the person who decided I was not worth being kind to "as a friend" or maybe it's the scale that keeps telling me the same number despite my daily efforts for fitness.

I've been slightly discouraged with my weight. I can honestly say I don't know why. When I look in the mirror I'm not unhappy. I feel pretty. I feel fit. I feel better about myself than I have in years. But for some reason I think I should be smaller. I've been this size for a very long time now. I haven't lost any weight at all. I go up and down about 3 to 5 pounds, but mostly I never go below 150. I don't know why this bothers me.

I guess for a while I've been happy with myself. I've been happy with what I've been doing fitness-wise and eating and all of that. And I still feel a bit of a nagging voice inside me that says I should be thinner. It tries to tell me that I'm not eating little enough portions or I'm eating too often or I'm not trying hard enough. Is this my little negative inner critic trying to come back at me or is it something I need to hear? I don't know. Whatever it is, it makes me feel like crap. It makes me doubt myself and feel sad. It makes me look in the mirror with distaste instead of pride. I don't like it.

Whatever the cause, I can say for certain that I am extremely thankful for certain people in my life who remind me about the things that really matter. Girls/women who have seen that scale say the same thing, but by photographic evidence have definitely seen true results in reshaping their body, and their hearts. These people are the kind of people I want to surround myself with. These are the people who lift each other up, are nonjudgmental, and just real.  These are the ladies I look toward for validation.

Besides dealing with the occasional relapse in self-ick, I am also going through some other things that just feel...heavy. We all have those times. We all take on things we should not, bear burdens that aren't our own, weigh ourselves down with weights that should not be ours. It's hard not to. We just want our fellow humans to be hopeful, happy, full of self-love. And it's hard to watch someone you care about just piss themselves away. It's hard to watch someone make bad choices. It's hard to listen to someone who is so mean to themselves.

But without us, the ones that are willing to hear...to bear the weight for a little while...well, where would we be? It is because of people who were willing to hold me up when I could not hold myself up that I am where I am today. But you have to be careful. You have to be careful that the weight of others doesn't pull you down too. There are times...maybe the hardest of them...that you have to let go. You have to let them drown in order to preserve your own self. I suppose that could be seen as an awful thing. But sometimes you come across people who just aren't willing to even try to help themselves. And those are the people who will bring you down with them. You cannot let that happen.

So, I pretty much said nothing to conclude this post. It's a mush of random thoughts. I suppose that is how my mind is going right now. I'm finding it difficult to get a grip. But this is the real journey, is it not? No matter how hard we try, no matter how much success we have, there is always a little snag, a bump. It's how we face it and deal with it that matters, right?

Nothing lasts forever. Not the good. Not the bad. Nothing. Everything has an end...well except maybe outer space and math. But you get what I mean here. I'll bounce back. I'll suck it up and face this nagging feeling and move on. Because I won't let it crush me. I just won't.

And...fuck the scale. 

Shameless Product Praises

I started using this product, Vaniply, for myself based on things I read on reddit.com/r/skincareaddiction. It has done amazing things for my skin. I use it as my night treatment after my wash routine. But, then I thought maybe I could use it on my son's face and arms too.

My son has always has these skin bumps. The pediatrician had a name for it and I cannot for the life of me remember what it is, but basically they are just little white bumps and redness on his arms and cheeks. They don't go away. He told me they would just always be there. I refuse to believe this.

I have tried a number of things, from CeraVe to Aquifer and nothing did a dang thing. Nothing. I started putting Vaniply on his cheeks just to test it out and I was amazed! Seriously. The bumps are almost gone. I have been applying it once or twice a day (preferably post bath) for about a week now and I am actually seeing results. I'm going to start putting it on his arms too now to see if it continues to have an effect.

But if anyone out there who reads this has these little white "pimples" because of dry sensitive skin, maybe try this stuff. It worked for my son. I am so HAPPY!!

Mommy Confession: I Didn't and Won't Finish My Son's Baby Book

I know there are going to be plenty of parents out there who are going to disagree with me on this one, but it is my opinion that traditional baby books are quite an archaic practice.

I started one. Why? Well, it was just something I thought people were supposed to do. I also thought that my ability to complete this book was a reflection of how good a mother I was, because (gasp!) what kind of a mother doesn't even bother to complete her own child's baby book!? Or at least that was the false idea I had in my head.

So, I worked hard on it. I tried to write down everything and make sure each little category was completed. When I forgot something I was really hard on myself about it.

Then in the middle of age 1, I just stopped. I have a handful of photos just tucked into the book waiting to be glued down. I know there are a ton of pages left empty.

What made me give it up? Well...quite frankly I just didn't enjoy it. It was fairly time consuming and I eventually realized that I would much rather be spending that time actually in the moment with my son rather than spending time trying to document everything. And I asked myself what my son would rather have me doing; ignoring him while I try to fill out this book or spending time with him building endless variations of train tracks?

In these times it is so much easier to just live life and have it documented as you go. There are a number of apps, like Time Hop, that allows you to photograph life and take walks down memory lane all the time. Facebook does this too. Google Photos stores everything by date and is easy to search. All my documented and important images are stored in "the cloud". It's fairly effortless. And if there are other memories I want to preserve that can't be stored photographically I have a running Google doc that I periodically write little notes to my son on. Someday, when he can read, I'll share it with him so he can read the things I wrote (and some family members too) while he was growing up.

The other factor is that, well, he just isn't going to care. Sure it will be a nice little memory to look at every now and then, but when it comes right down to it I think my son would rather have me there with him experiencing life rather than sitting in a corner stressing about completing lines in a book and pasting photos. I don't think my mom completed mine. While I appreciate what she did complete some pages of mine, I honestly don't feel that her ability/inability to complete my baby book is a direct reflection of her parenting. The things that mattered most were the things she did with me.

So, yeah I give up on the baby book. Maybe someday I'll get really bored and try to do what little I can remember by then, but I highly doubt it. And I'm okay with this.

A Random Short Pondering

So what does it really mean to "love thy neighbor"?

Well, I am not the religious type, but I do think that the basic values that most religions hold are good ones. They promote kindness, generosity, love, compassion, hope, and empathy (among other things).

But in the past year (particularly during the election season) this one has resonated with me hard. I suppose it is certainly open to interpretation.

To me, this means loving people despite the things you might not like about them. No, I don't mean allowing people to treat you like garbage or hurt you intentionally. I don't mean allowing a "friend" to talk down to you like you are some small insect they find repulsive. Not any of that. It's important to set boundaries, of course.

What it means to me personally is that there are a lot of people on this teeny planet that I care for deeply. I may not know them well or hang with them on a daily basis, but no matter. They still hold a place in my heart regardless. Why? Because they are amazing people. They are kind, generous, fun, trustworthy, passionate, loyal, wild, caring, compassionate, helpful,...the list goes on. And in the end, those are the things that really matter. Those are the traits in a human that I appreciate. Sure they might have different political or religious beliefs than I do, but that doesn't make them less important as a human, nor does it make them ineligible for my list of people to love and care about.

So just let that sink in a bit. Think about it.

2017 So Far: Getting Back On The Road

Nothing like a little stomach bug to make you appreciate good health! For the past three days I have felt like death. Absolutely the worst kind of sickness. I hate being sick anyway, but stomach bugs are the absolute worst.

I had plans for the new year. I was going to volunteer, I was going to take the boy to a morning event at the children's museum, I was going to go meet some new people at a "new year's resolution chat with wine" gathering...but all of that was thwarted by this horrible awful no good very bad stomach bug.

I am very pleased to say that my son did not get it as bad as me. His amounted to periods of "my tummy hurts" and a surprise barfing while walking home from the park. So I am very glad for that.

Luckily, before I got sick, I did get in one yoga session for the new year. It was mostly a therapeutic one...I guess they all kind of are.

Oh yeah, and those rumors I kept hearing about kids age 3 or 4 no longer needing naps...well that's unfortunately true (yes, I've cried about it a little.) Yes, it is abundantly clear that he no longer needs his beautiful, glorious, 2-hour afternoon nap. So, hello new year, goodbye free chunk of time to do my own things.

So, needless to say, my fitness goals for this year have not gotten off to the best start. Actually the beginning of this year, so far, has been a little bit shitty. It hasn't at all gone the way I planned.

And isn't that just the way it goes? Life is often going in other directions than we planned. Big or little, sometimes our road takes a wild turn and we are left standing bewildered.

I used to be the kind of person that, when things got off track I'd lose my focus, my motivation, and my drive. I'd give up. I'd stop. It was a bump in the road, but I allowed it to flatten all my tires and leave me stranded in a desert of self-resentment.

Somehow that changed. Now I have this ache inside to get back on the road. Now instead of allowing the bumps to deflate my tires I run over that bad boy with reckless abandon. Yep, I got sick for a few days. Sure, I indulged far too much over the holidays. Mmmhmm, those 2 hour blocks of freedom in my mid-day are now a longing memory. But that just means I have to figure out a way to get around them.

The sickness helped with the holiday weight loss (not recommended by any means. Lord that sucked). So I am at least, on that level back, to where I was before the Christmas season began. But now my fitness routine needs tweaking and it might mean that (oh god...it hurts to even think about this let alone write it out...) I'm going to have to start working out in the morning before the boy wakes up. Did I ever mention how I am SO NOT A MORNING PERSON? Like seriously, that is my least favorite time of the day. I am such a bitch in the morning for at least an hour.

But, I'm looking at the shiny side of this. Working out makes me feel amazing in so many ways. Perhaps starting each day with that will actually make it more awesome. I'm willing to give it a go. Honestly, I don't have any other option other than to give up, and truly in my mind that really isn't an option.

So, now that I feel I have finally fully recovered from my stomach bug, I aim to begin my new rituals tomorrow morning. Yep, that means I have to peel my sleepy, bitchy ass out of bed at like 5:30 a.m.. Ugh! But I am willing to try. It's a small sacrifice for a soul of peacefulness and joy. And my body will appreciate it too.

Here we go! Cheers bitches!

When It's Been One Of Those Days...The Moments That Melt Me

You know what kind of day I mean, if you're a parent. One of those days where no matter what I do for my child, it's wrong. I can't please him. I can't give him enough attention. Then on those days, gravity too seems to be spiteful towards me. I drop everything. I'm running late. You know the kind of day I'm talking about.

Then night time comes along and the bedtime routine goes fairly well, but the child seems to be more interested in expanding his creative methods of stalling. He needs to pee...5 times. He needs a drink...two or three. He's afraid of the shadows. He needs the lights on. He beckons me into his room for the 7th time just to say that I forgot something but he doesn't know what.

I try to be patient. I really do. But unfortunately for him he did not get a mom with unlimited patience. Mine runs short after probably the 4th beckoning.

You know...one of those days!

He's not like that all day every day, but the 3-year old's emotional stability is precarious at best. So even on our best days he has his moments.

But sprinkled among those minutes that I feel like I'm living with a crazy person and consider pulling out all my hair are moments that remind me how very lucky I am to have him in my life.

Sometimes we'll just be walking outside talking about the trees, the sky, the grass, dog poo, and suddenly he'll say sweetly, "I love you Momm-O". He says it with so much feeling. Like he really means it. He does this often in random daily moments. I capture those words, those emotions, in my heart to keep forever. I know someday he might not tell me he loves me as much as he'll tell me he hates me and I'm ruining his life. haha

I got a new robe for Christmas and he asks me to put it on so he can "nuggle" with me and my robe. Then he proceeds to snuggle up as close as humanly possible, pet me, and softly tell me again how much he loves me...and my new robe.

Sometimes he'll just look at me and with the honesty of an innocent child say "You look like a pretty princess!"

Then there's those moments in the wee hours of the night that he's woken up with leg/knee pain, feeling sick, or having had a bad dream and he'll yell out "Mommy! Come in here Mommy!" And he just needs me to be close to him for a bit until he falls asleep again.

The gentle touch of his hand affectionately and nonchalantly placed on my arm as we sit and watch our own devices together on the couch (I've been bingeing on Stranger Things and I don't want him to watch it...don't judge me).

I relish these moments. My heart swells with joy. And I don't take them for granted because I know I won't always have this small person to snuggle up into my arms. He won't always want to lay his head on my chest to "hear my heart go tick tock tick". He won't always let me give him kisses or tickle his tummy. I won't be able to get close to him and smell his hair forever. He won't want me to hold his hand everywhere we go as long as we live. All of these little things will someday become only a memory. He won't always be my small little boy. And while I have him in this way I will take it all in and hold onto it as tightly as I possibly can. Because someday he'll be all grown up and things will be different.