hair today-gone tomorrow

There are so many titles I could have named this post.  They are, but not limited to...Beauticians-R-Us, Colby Scissorhands, Why Moms Should Never Try and Feed a Baby in Privacy, What Were You Thinking?, and I'm So Happy I Didn't Strangle My Seven Year Old.

But no matter what the title, it doesn't change the fact that Colby cut Saylor's hair yesterday afternoon.

I was feeding Grady in my room, Carter was outside riding his bike, Andrew was at track practice...so that left Colby and Saylor to their own devices.

They were playing happily and quietly.  It's the quietly that I should have been more wary of.

I didn't find out about the cut until Saylor came into my room to tattle that Colby was trying to cut my flip-flops.  (why she didn't tattle about her hair is a mystery)  I was changing Grady's diaper by then and wasn't looking up...I just hollered to Colby to put the scissors away.

They I looked at Saylor.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I asked if she cut her hair (in a slightly screaming slightly crying voice).  

"No Mom, Colby did."

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

As I surveyed Saylor's hair it was obvious Colby has had no previous experience in the art of cutting hair and should NEVER be allowed close to hair with scissors again.

(he's only seven...what do I expect)

In a very frantic voice I asked Colby why he would cut his sister's hair.

Through his own teary scared eyes (mom crying is much much worse than mom yelling) Colby confessed, "I just wanted the hair out of her eyes!"

Saylor had been in a ponytail all day in the wind.  All of her wispy hairs had come out of the pony and where framing her face and falling into her eyes.  Colby cut them all. 

He then cut 2 inches off her ponytail.

I asked where the hair was that he cut off.  (By then I was on the phone with my mother and still crying.)  He told me it was in the bathroom garbage.

 When I opened the cupboard and saw the amount of hair...I might have said a very small swear word.

I then told my mom over the phone that there was a dead cat in the garbage describing the hairball.

Saylor got really excited and exclaimed she wanted to see the dead cat...more than once.

(I need to be more careful with my words and sarcasm in front of her.  oops.)

My mom was kind enough to call a friend of hers that cuts hair out of her home.  She agreed to "fix" Saylors hair right then.

Andrew arrived home from track and was left in charge of Carter and the guilty child.

 Don't let this face fool you.

He is pure evil...ok...he's cute and wonderful, but still guilty of crimes against hair.

We snapped a few more pictures of the damage, packed up a freshly fed Grady and headed out the door.

Surprisingly, Saylor was not upset at all by her scalping.  She tried to comfort me in my time of crisis.  She over and over said to me while waving her hand in true Say Say fashion, "It's only hair.  It will grow back!"  Thank you Saylor for being the voice of reason when if anyone should have been freaking out, it should have been you.

 Saylor was super good for Debbie and a stood still for her "real" haircut.

(by then she had some practice)

Debbie, my mom and I decided that because we didn't want to cut all her hair off and because most of the damage was around her face, we could give her long layers in the back to mask the damage of the severed ponytail...and invest in headbands...lots and lots of headbands.  They will cover the stubble around her forehead, temples, ears and neck.  

 Debbie was even generous enough to donate the first headband.

Thanks to Debbie Bingham and my mom for talking me through my first (and hopefully last) hair raising experience.  It could have been much much worse.

On the way home, Saylor and I stopped and bought a vanilla milkshake for Say and a diet coke for me.
We are emotional drinkers.

When we got home, I washed, dried and curled Saylors hair to see how it was all going to work.

 Debbie did a wonderful job and I'm very pleased with the results.

Say is going to rock these headbands.

 I think it is fair to say that her hair is still beautiful.

Much different...but still beautiful.

(I am crying over the loss of her double braids in the back.  I loved her Little House on the Prarie look.)

 The drive home and diet coke helped me come up with a sufficient punishment for my Colby Colbs.

#1 He had to pay me back for the haircut.

#2 He had to donate $10 to Saylor's headband fund.

He cried at first over the loss of his birthday money...but then counted out the cash and handed it over.

He knew he had no choice.

Today I'm over the shock, but still a little sad over the one inch wide almost shaved section all around Saylor's face.  Most of Colby's cuts were right to the scalp.  

...but I'm trying to laugh about the situation.  Most families I know have one or two hair cutting experiences.

I for one cut my own hair on the kitchen table when I was about four. (I think)  My mom was cutting my hair and put the scissors down to answer the phone.  My dad was reading books with my sister in the next room.  I called out to my dad, "Look Dad!  I can cut my own hair!"  He of course said something like, "That's great Jill" and continued his attention on my sister.  He's only one person for heavens sake!  When my mom came back...I'm sure my fun was over.  I've blocked out the memory after that.  

 The next time I cut hair it belonged to my Grandma Walker's cat.  I told her I thought the cat looked too hot and needed a trim.

I fully admit I ruined that cat.  She looked hideous.

I have never cut hair again.

(And Colby better not either!)

self portraits

 I found this picture on my phone Thursday night.

Colby had swiped it and tried some self photography with his birthday presents.

He did a pretty good job...good enough to make me laugh.

 This one is pretty awesome too.

I wonder who got the piece of cake with the eyebrow print. 

Classic Colby.

Self Photography is where it's at apparently.

...but Colby is better at it than me.

 I tried it at Macy's Saturday.

Sent this picture to my sister Jolyn.  "Hey Jolyn what do you think of this skirt???"

It's the best I can do when I don't have her there in the dressing room with me.  Can I say how excited I am for her to move closer to me in hopefully just a few years.

 I tried again last night with Grady.

I have practically no pictures of him and I together.  Partly because I'm the family picture taker and partly because...I'm 5 weeks post partum.  Who wants a picture of that?

But Grady is cute and little and I want at least a few shots of him and me. (or I...I can never remember proper English.  Once again I'm 5 weeks post partum.  Give me grammar break.)

 I discovered really quick that I'm not very good at self photography.

So I stopped taking pictures of us together and took pictures of just Grady instead.

Much better.

Other than documenting Grady's adorableness we had a good Sunday.

Steve had meetings at 9 and then again at 10:30 am.  That left me home alone with five kids and getting them ready for church by myself.  I was SO happy when Steve showed up at 12:30 and could help wrangle the monkeys.

We made it to church on time which is good because Andrew gave his first talk in Sacrament meeting.  His talk was on faith in God, and he did a fantastic job.  My favorite part was when he bore his testimony.  I had a hard time fighting back tears.  I'm proud of my oldest son.

Half way through the meeting Carter's pump alarmed with a low battery warning.   Steve took him home to change the battery and because he wasn't there to take me home...I stayed the full three hours.  Honestly, I wasn't planning on doing this with Grady for at least a few more weeks.   I'm probably giving the impression that I'm up to being back in my normal routine...which I'm not.  Mostly because sitting through Sacrament meeting with Saylor is HARD even without a newborn.  She clamors for attention from both Steve and I and this week her clamoring of choice was licking our arms.  I wanted to throttle her.  I came pretty close to sending her to her primary teachers early.  They are a cute newlywed couple who still think three year olds are cute...and not obnoxious like their own parents do.

After church while walking out to the car, Saylor's teachers stopped me and confessed how much they love having her in their class and how funny they think she is.  Saylor told them in class that she is VERY afraid of 1. tractors and 2. Orkas.  Orkas????  I didn't even know she knew what an orka was let alone know to be afraid of it.  

Saylor when she is not driving me up the wall is hysterical.

I really do love her...even though I don't enjoy a good arm licking.

somebody really cute turned 7 this week!

Somebody really adorable and cute turned seven on Thursday!

Oh who could it be???

 It was COLBY!

Happy Birthday my little man...aka middle child...aka Colbsters...aka the most compact fun anyone could ever find. 

Steve and I LOVE this boy!

 We didn't plan anything big for his birthday...yet.

Colby gets a cousin-day-out next Saturday with Wes and AJ, so we kept it pretty simple on Thursday.

We had Grandma and Grandpa Dixon over for dinner and cake.  Colby chose "juicy meat" otherwise know as steak, potatoes, and green beans.  He wanted lemonade too.  (crystal light was a good fill in)

He also requested a striped cake.  He wanted the frosting striped too...but I'm not that cool.  I did think six alternating chocolate and vanilla layers wasnt' too shabby though.

 He he is praying for good presents.

 He must be a religious kid...because Grandma Walker and Grandma Dixon came through with cold hard cash.  $80 to be exact.  The kid is loaded.  He already has the truck at Toytown picked out. (We're going to let the money burn in his pocket a little longer in case he changes his mind.)

 ...now what could be in this next present from Mom and Dad?

 Smooths!!!!

(For the non-Dixon people out there, this means athletic pants.  My nemesis.  All three boys were flabbergasted with the fact that I bought these hideous things.  Colby, I must really love you.  He has worn them twice already...but not to school.  I haven't softened that much.)

 His larger present was a big kid RC car like Andrew and Carter have.  He was in heaven and wouldn't even look up for a picture.

 Grandma Dixon got her baby fix.

 Saylor make sure Grandpa Dixon didn't get bored.

We then broke out the cake.

But wait?  There are way more candles than 7 on that cake!

Steve and I slipped 7 trick candles on the cake when Colby wasn't looking.  They were powerful things...and melted a few of the wimpy candles.  The flames were a little out of control!

 Here he is thinking he got the job done...

Wait a minute???

What kind of a joke is this???

 Luckily, Colby is a fun one and embraced the forever flames.

Happy Birthday Colby Colbs.

I think its wonderful to have you turn seven!!!

loved baby

 My favorite baby pjs are this brand- Lovedbaby.

They are the cosiest softest pajamas ever.  Grady has two pair handed down from Saylor.  

 

They are brown and green.  It was smart of me to get unisex colors 3 1/2 years ago.
I love how they are cut long and thin.  My infants' bodies are long with short legs and most other brands of footie pajamas are too short in the body and too wide.  I wish I had five pair in every size of these.  Unfortunately, they are pricey and I'm not splurging on clothes for this boy...I need to pay the hospital bill instead.
I keep telling myself that as the youngest of our children, Grady will probably drive the nicest car, and that makes me feel better about skimping on his wardrobe budget.  (He's not a girl...t-shirts and soft pants will do.)
Please know Grady that even though you might not have a million clothes, you are still a Loved Baby.

And this picture is proof of that.  

Andrew held you the entire time he was watching tv last night.  He even fought me when I needed to take you for a bath.  Andrew then decided that watching you get clean was more fun than tv and came and helped. 

You are loved and adored.

 ...as are these two men.

I went to pick up Steve today for a quick lunch break and I caught this image of him and his dad in my side mirror.

I chuckled at their matching clothing and stance.

one month

Grady is officially one month old tomorrow.

The last month flew by in a blink...a sleepless blink, but a blink nonetheless.

I tried to get a few pictures of him this afternoon.  Some of them worked better than others.

Here a few things about Grady...

He is finally starting to look less yellow.  His jaundice can still be seen in his forehead and in the whites of his eyes, but I'm having to tint his pictures way less than I did a few weeks ago.

Grady is a great eater and a great daytime sleeper.  

It's at night that he likes to be look around, grunt and squirm.  

His average feedings are around 2 1/2 - 3 hours apart morning and night.  Is it bad to say I'm looking forward to four hour stretches?

He is not a fussy baby- but happily eats, burps, messes and sleeps.  He only cries if I don't catch the hungry cues quick enough and he actually has to "sing" for his meals.

 He has started to smile.

It slays me every time.

Today he looked me straight in the face and grinned an open mouth grin.  

Adorable.

It made up for (a few of) the sleepless nights.  

Grady's eyes are blue.

The most beautiful dark blue...

with light blue halos.

I know it's just a matter of time until they turn deliciously dark brown- like all of his siblings' eyes- but I'm enjoying the blues while they last, and secretly hoping they stick around.

He loves his binkie.

 Really loves his binkie.

Eye rolled into back of head happiness.

His eyelashes are growing in. 

 I am in love with them...

along with his darling nose and mouth.

And his hair still rocks.

I love this Grady boy.

...and his toes are pretty cute too.

the art of manipulation

At the tender age of 3 1/2,  Saylor has the art of manipulation down to a science.

It's scary how good she is.

She should teach classes.

I wonder if it comes from being (almost) the youngest and having two X chromosomes.  That little extra DNA compared to her brothers must give her the competitive edge.

She's good...really good.

Here she is in action.

I'll break it down step by step for those in the family who aren't lucky enough to have the genetic predisposition to mooch.

 Step 1:

Ask Mom.  

"Oh Mom, this tiger is so cute.  Oh he LOVES me.  He wants me to take him home with me.  Can we buy him mom?  Please???"

(Do we really need to go into my answer?  It's pretty obvious what I said.  I too have XX for my genetic makeup and know how to fight her abilities.)

 Step 2:

Ask Dad.

Make sure you engage him with your deep brown eyes and ask in the sweetest voice.

Do NOT break eye contact with said dad as you ask...

"Dad, can we buy this tiger?  Oh Dad, he is so cute and he wants me to take him home with him.  He loves me dad.  Can I have him?  Please?"

Make sure you pet stuffed tiger while talking.  It shows commitment and adoration for the toy you profess to love now, but will end up lost and underneath your bed by tomorrow morning.

 After pleading your case...look away innocently.

Make sure you continue to mumble about how much you and the tiger love each other....it's more convincing this way.

 When your victim mistakenly reaches for his wallet...look away completely, but still stroke the tiger lovingly.

If you stare at him while he gets out money, it makes you look greedy.  Keep the innocence near the surface by leaning closer to the one you just mooched.  It creates the illusion of loyalty and gratitude.

 Step 3:

Give Dad the cutest  thankful face known to mankind.

It temporarily blinds him to the fact he was just suckered our of $11.99.

 Step 4:

Try not to act too smug around the older brother who is getting squat.

 Step 5:

Enjoy your spoils.

You worked hard and deserve to enjoy your effort.

This chick is amazing at getting what she wants from her father.  As I type this post, she came home from Lowes with a new pair of pink princess work gloves...like she is really going to work with them.

I think for our checkbook's sake, Saylor needs to stay home with me from now on when Steve is going to any place money can be spent.

Here are a few pictures of the non-moochy kids.

They had to do something besides perfect their craft of blowing our budget on stuffed animals.

 Baby presents can come in handy...at least the bags can.

Once again, why do I buy toys?

 Grady decided to tease me with sleep the other night.  I slept for four hours straight for the first time in a month.  It was bliss.

Last night he was up every two again.

Good think he is so handsome, or I would have to be mad.

The Mooch and Colby both have colds.  

Yesterday they spent their day watching Netfix together in the glider in Grady's room.  I walked in and found them both asleep.  They have been given strict instructions to stay away from Grady and watch as much tv as they feel up too.  

(I'm trying to survive here...no judgements please.)

Non-pictured is Andrew.

After track yesterday he went to a friends house for a late-over birthday party.

Poor kid was one of the only ones not allowed to spend the night.  We might be suckers for a three year old girls, but 12 year old boys and sleep overs have no power over us.

He came home happy and hopped up on caffeine and sugar around 11 pm.

I'm not sure the combo of teenagers and babies is a good one...Steve and I might never sleep again.