A very relaxing week. I met my biggest deadlines by Monday, freeing up my schedule for sitting outside in the sun, sipping wine with friends and watching the kids play. Jon took Thursday off and we all headed to the Field Museum in Chicago. It was our first big outing with all five kids and it went very well, despite a few lectures from me which sounded something like this:
“Didn’t I ask you to brush your hair this morning? You did? What, did you use a fork? You’re SO getting a haircut. Don’t give me that look!”
“Did I just see you running? How old are you? 9, right? SURELY you know how to behave in a public place by now. Don’t give me that look!”
“Didn’t I tell you to stay with me? If you run off again, you’re going to have to hold my hand the rest of the day. Don’t give me that look!”
“Did you just climb under that rope? That’s there for a reason, you know. Okay, back into the stroller with you. Don’t give me that look!”
Oh well. Nobody’s perfect, certainly not this mom. I figure when postpartum hormones are still raging, you’re on your first outing with a new baby and trying to keep track of five kids in a busy institution of public learning, you’re entitled to a few sweaty, frazzled rants. Overall everyone else was at least as well behaved as I was.
In other news, Miss Clara turned six weeks old yesterday. She only has half a head of hair left and her forehead and chin are covered in zits. Every one of my babies hits the “zitty and balding” phase around this age, but somehow I thought Clara might be exempt. You know, what with her rough start and all, I thought perhaps the universe would allow her to hang on to her soft, silky hair and smooth skin. But, nope.
you can’t see the zits in the picture, but believe me, they are there. you also can’t see her hair, because it’s not.
But even when her red blotchy face makes me cringe, I still think she’s the cutest thing going. That’s what makes moms special, right? We can see past the zits, the cradle cap, the patchy hair and see the sweet, adorable baby we know is underneath.
And when they get older, we can look past the goofy haircuts, the mismatched, rumpled clothes, and the goofy public behavior to see the handsome, well-behaved, intelligent boys underneath.
At least, we try. We try really, really hard.
So cute! The Field Museum! That reminds me so much of The Time Traveler’s Wife (one of my favorite books) and Henry’s great adventures there :0)
That’s what I love about boys - give them all a really short haircut and you never have to worry about combs!
Whenever I have a baby, I feel like the older ones aren’t listening to me and I’m going “nag, nag, nag, nag” all day. I think it’s because I’m stuck holding the baby and I can’t get up and make them stop whatever they’re doing!
For a long time, my hair rule was “If I have to comb it, it’s too long.” Well, they’re getting old enough to make requests such as, “I want to grow my hair out.”
Oh well.
Kate is also sporting male pattern baldness and zits.
My boys have been begging for those cool-kid floppy long hairdos for years now, and for some reason they are just unable to grow them (or maybe I’m just unable to sit patiently through the months and months of stupid-looking hair before it finally gets long enough to look halfway decent?)
It doesn’t help that those haircuts give me flashbacks to my sister’s really doofy looking boyfriends in high school in the early 80s. By the time I was of dating age (early 90s), I was SO relieved those haircuts were no longer “in”. Now it pains me that my kids want to look doofy ON PURPOSE.