The Evolution of (My) Hair

I have never understood why people get all weird about cutting or changing their hair. I totally understand bad hair days, hair ruts, being too lazy to make an appointment and/or not having enough time to head to the salon. But I've known people who have basically never changed their hairstyle - ever. Like they still have the same bangs they did in 1988 - ever. I know people who have never colored, highlighted, or even plucked a gray hair all in the name of keeping it natural. I've known people whose husbands have cried when they got their hair cut off. That annoys me on so many different levels, I won't even go there. Come on! It's hair. It grows back.

(I unfortunately do not have access to any older pictures of me to illustrate the following stories - they are all in my parent's attic - so I searched the web for help. Enjoy!)

When I was really little, I had pretty curly, honey-colored hair. That is until my mom, with some 70s-era inspiration, cut it into one of those Dorothy Hamill haircuts when I was in kindergarten.

When I was older, I had really long, naturally wavy hair. When I say really long, I mean that to get it cut up to my bra strap was hacking a good 6 inches off. I had a perm in 8th grade with huge bangs and the sides to match (forgive me, it was the peak of the 80s). I used mousse and hairspray multiple times throughout the day, and even had a portable butane curling iron I kept in my acid-washed denim purse - just in case I needed to pop into the bathroom and fix any flopping hairs during school.

I never toyed with color (besides colored mousse - did any of you ever have that?) until the summer before 9th grade when I basically used an entire bottle of hydrogen peroxide on my head and then tried to act like it was a natural occurance from being out in the sun. It was a color similar to this (except with really big bangs still):

I was a Senior in high school when I found my first gray hair. It was laying on my letter jacket. Yeah, I can thank my dad for that lovely gene.

When I went to college, I still had long hair. Then one night I decided I was sick of it and had my roommates take a pair of (dull, I'm sure) scissors and cut it up to my chin. Thankfully, I have pretty forgiving hair so it actually looked ok. It was the first time I had ever had short hair, and it didn't even occur to me that it was considered short until I went to a dance with Colby Rollins and we had pictures made. The girl processing us through wrote in the area to describe the people in the picture, "short hair, black dress." It took me a second to realize she was describing me.

I did a similar thing when I first went to England on my mission. I had been over there for maybe 4 months and decided to chop my hair. So sitting in our landlady's kitchen, I had her cut it off. When I had been over there about 9 months (it had grown out considerably) was the first time I officially dyed my hair. It was a reddish color. After that I was addicted...

I have changed my hair so many times, I honestly don't know what my true color is. I do know that my natural color has gotten progressively darker and blah-er, judging by the roots. Why is that? I also know that on any given occasion, if I didn't have some type of color in my hair, anyone would be able to see that I have too many gray hairs to continue to pluck comfortably. I have alternated between short and long, but in the past 10 years have averaged laying-on or just-below the shoulder length. For the past 2 - 3 years I have had blond highlights and shoulder-length or longer hair.

When we lived in Utah, I switched hairstylists all the time because I could never find anyone I was happy with. When we moved here, I happened to find a guy I thought was brilliant. Everytime I left the salon, I LOVED my hair - the cut, the highlights, the style - everything. If I was rich and famous and brought along an entourage to fix me up, I would have brought him. He was the one who introduced me to straightening my hair. But... he turned out to be a pervert. When he started talking suggestively of how he would like to try out "different flavors", I bailed. My friend recommended her hairstylist, and that is who I have been with ever since. She does a great job, too, but I think my favorite was still the other guy.

We had our family pictures made this August and when we got them back, I liked everyone in them but me. That was true for several reasons, but a big one was my hair. SO BORING. I basically had not changed my style in 3 years. I'm no fashionista, by any stretch of the imagination, but I do know hair is like clothes - if you haven't changed it, your clothes, or your make-up in that long, you can pretty much bet none of it looks cute anymore. So I decided to take measures. This is the result:

I would ask for your opinion, but what's done is done. I like it. It's actually a very rich auburn, which you can't tell very well from the picture. And it has a lot more "swing" than it seems like here. And I probably should have cut it just a little bit shorter, but you get the idea.

So, I challenge all you ladies out there who haven't had a new style or a new color in at least a year, go crazy! Get wild! Do your roots proud! It's fun :-)

Big J is 7

Big J really is "Big J" now. I have not had a chance this week to post about Big J's birthday, but on Sunday my oldest child turned 7. He's looked like he's that old for a while now, but it is still hard to believe. Just over the last few months he seems to have changed in how he looks, acts, learns, etc. He's growing up!!

We had a really fun birthday party for him on Saturday. I've always let my kids pick what kind of theme they want their party to be. We've had bears, puppies, Buzz Lightyear, dinosaurs, fish, Robin Hood, knights, Go Diego Go - you name it! This year Big J wanted to have an army party. It was actually really fun and easy to pull together.

His invitations were recruitment letters, everyone got "gear" issued when they walked in, we had basic training through an obstacle course and then they got sent on a top secret mission to recover their lost comrades (army guys we had hidden in the yard).

They got to have a "battle" with water balloons and then beat the heck out of a tank-shaped pinata. It was fun. And this year was the first year I splurged and bought a cake, because I saw the design at the store and thought it was too cute (and the little tank was actually a transformer; and it actually said his name instead of Big J):

I love Big J! He has the BEST SMILE and LAUGH. He'll tell us a joke and then crack himself up so much that he cries! He is a GREAT BIG BROTHER and his little brothers look up to him and want to be with him all the time.

He is SMART and loves to learn. I am grateful to say that we have moved well beyond the I'm-going-to-pull-out-my-hair-while-he-learns-to-read stage. A couple of months ago it just clicked with him and he loves to read! He tested at a level 16 at the beginning of this school year (and was already moved up to level 17) - they want all exiting 1st graders to be at a level 20 or above. (Yes, I'm bragging. At least I don't have a bumper sticker.) He is always "quizzing" us at dinner about math problems or how to spell words.

He's a FUNNY kid. Like yesterday he kept opening up a birthday card he had received that would play the Scooby Doo theme. He goes, "I like to think of the words in my head and then move my mouth so it looks like I'm singing them" and then proceeded to demonstrate. He had no idea that it was called lip-synching and thought he was so cool lip-synching and grooving along.

Big J is SWEET. He still gives his kindergarten teacher hugs if he sees her after school. He'll come up to me and give me a hug for no reason. The other day I was looking up some things in the boys' baby books, and I read him a little letter I had written to him after he was just born. When I finished, I looked at him and he had tears in his eyes.

On the other hand, he is ALL BOY. All boy. I'll just leave it at that.

I love you, Big J! Have a great year!

Oh, Noooooooooooooooo!

Rise and Shout, the Cougars are out!

It's official. I'm a groupie.

Well, not really, but we did take a roadtrip this weekend down to Tulsa to see the BYU vs. Tulsa football game. I think we've found a new tradition. Next year when BYU is in Dallas playing TCU, we are so there!

BYU doesn't often play over in these parts, so it was a good excuse for a trip. We went down with a big group of friends, most of which were (at least in part) BYU alumni, although some were not. We hit the tailgate party beforehand, which true to BYU standards, consisted of a lot of people at a park with music and food and a bus load of old die-hard BYU fans. The boys played in the sand on the playground most of the time. The cheerleaders came and performed, Cosmo the Cougar mascot high-fived everyone, and we got our faces painted. Well, Big J ventured out and got his hand painted instead.

The LDS community may be worldwide, but it also makes it a very small world. We saw several people we knew from a long time ago. JC ran into a friend he went to high school with in Mexico that now lives outside of Dallas. We ran into a guy we knew from our apartment complex when we were first married. And as I was walking with the boys over to the face painting, a heard someone call my name. I turned to see a guy named Tony that dated my friend Lori our freshman year. That was a blast from the past! Afterwards, I was pleased that he even recognized who I was considering that was 15 YEARS AGO!!!!! (Yes, I just felt really old when I typed that).

The best quote of the night has to be given to Little J. But it will only be funny if you are Mormon. As we were leaving the tailgate party to walk over to the stadium, there was some yellow "Do Not Cross" tape blocking off part of the parking lot. Little J started holding onto it and goes, "This is like in the scriptures! You know, the part where they hold onto the rod to get to the Tree of Fruit!" Exactly.

The game was so much fun. I loved watching the boys. They would jump up and cheer with the rest of us. They'd start their own "B-Y-U!" chants and yell "Go Cougars!" They would dance to the music . Little J's super secret move was to shut his jacket and then rip it open like Superman to reveal his BYU t-shirt underneath and yell "GO BYU!!" They loved when the other team would score a touchdown, because then fireworks would go off from on top of the scoreboard. I know we were on TV a couple of times. The guys with painted on shirts a couple of rows in front of us helped ensure that.

It was a really long game that began late at 8:00 p.m., so when halftime was at 10:30, I decided to call it quits. Little Man had been a trooper long enough. So we left and went back to the hotel. The next morning we ate a good buffet breakfast and the boys went swimming while Little Man napped. Then we went to the Tulsa Riverwalk. Who knew San Antonio had some competition? The boys played in the fountains and we ate ice cream and then all of us (the whole group) went out to eat before heading home. In the words of the Sabine Parish newspaper (the small town paper from where my parents grew up) "a good time was had by all."

GO BYU!!!

Arbitrary Queries

1. Does anyone have a great razor they recommend? I have tried both Venus and Quatro razors and decided I don't like either of them. They are good for like a week and then they are like every other razor I've ever used. I've almost decided to just get cheapy disposable ones and replace them every week.

2. What was your favorite Harry Potter book? Read any other good series?

3. If you could pay just under $200 and spend only 2 hours assembling ingredients that are already chopped and cooked, etc. into 2 weeks worth of restaurant-quality entrees for your family, would you do it? I ask because of this.

4. Arbitrary queries heard at dinner tonight:
Big J: "Which one of these words are Spanish? Cat or cato?"
Little J: "What about this one? Hy-e-na."

You...Complete...Me....

I just finished reading this:

I admit - I did not jump on the bandwagon until 5 of the 7 books were out, because I was never attracted to reading them. That is because they're not really in my genre of books I enjoy reading. But I repented of my ways and saw the light :-). All I have to say is that J.K. Rowling is a masterful storyteller and deserves to be a gazillionaire. For all you out there who have refused to read this series for whatever reason (**cough, cough, Tori, cough cough**), you are missing out. The movies do not do the books justice - they are water-downed versions of a much more intricate and engrossing story. Now I need to go read Eclipse.