There Was a Little Girl

My next post was intended to be close-ups of June's forehead and hairline.  You see, I snapped some photos of her beautiful curls the other day, because I can't get enough of the way they react to the summer humidity.  

There was a little girl,

And she had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead. 

What I did not have in mind was coming home from my glorious babysitter day only to discover that June's lovely temple had collided with the corner of our dining room table so badly that even after six hours under a bandage it still re-opened and started gushing blood when I took a peek.  Yikes.  I grabbed the kids and our shoes and headed to an immediate care clinic where they gave her two stitches while Georgia proudly helped, and Waylon pulled my hair, pooped in his diaper (I didn't bring any extras of course), and generally attempted to wreak havoc in the exam room.  June was a little champion of a patient and enjoyed receiving heaps of praise for it from the nurse and doctor.  It's unfortunate to have to get attention for such a painful incident, but June was glowing afterwards, and I could tell how happy she was about the whole thing.  Knock on wood, she's been our healthiest kid of the bunch, so I think she was excited to feel like the special one getting all the medical attention for once.  Since Joe ended up having to work late, our original dinner plan was downgraded from homemade eggplant parmesan to boxed mac n' cheese, and then further downgraded to the McDonald's drive-thru after we left the clinic.  Funny how those things have a way of happening, but you gotta roll with the punches, right?  I promise not to document every bump and bruise on ye olde blog here, but "first stitches" seemed like a noteworthy parental right of passage to me.


{I didn't mean to freak everyone out when this photo appeared in my Instagram feed looking more like a gunshot wound. Really, she was perfectly fine and happy at this moment, as evidenced by her dancing in the waiting room, below. But here's a pro tip: enter with an open head wound, and you'll get faster service every time.} : )


{I'm sure Waylon was yelling for me to put him down at this moment.}   

June is 100% fine, and the stitches will come out later this week.  I don't want to leave you with those images, though, so let's get back to that originally intended post.

There was a little girl,

And she had a little curl,

Right in the middle on the side of her forehead. 

Waylon's Hair

I feel hopelessly behind on blogging, and I know that I could just skip it and move on, but you know, CUTE STUFF HAS HAPPENED. And of course, not blogging it doesn't mean it didn't happen or whatever, but hello, THE GIRLS WERE FLOWER GIRLS. So I have to get to that. Most of the rest of it is just everyday junk that no one really cares about, except that I do for some reason. Blogging is my way of freezing time, living life twice.

If I posted entries every day would I catch up? Who knows. The thing is, with so much travel this spring, I'm not just behind on blogging, I'm behind on everything. Paying bills, putting away winter clothes, returning phone calls, you name it.

If I could hang a big "OUT OF ORDER" sign on this blog I might, because I'm having trouble putting together anything logical or cohesive. In an effort to get back into the swing of things, I'm just going to declare that I don't care and dive back in with the important topic of: Waylon's hair.

Wait - let me take a step back for a minute. Can we discuss the milestones that have flown by unnoticed? Something about the marker of my dad's illness has really brought into relief how much Waylon has changed. 11 weeks passed from the day my dad entered the hospital to the day he died, and in that same time Waylon went from a puree-eating, wobbly sitter with no teeth, to a sitting, crawling, pulling up baby with two top and two bottom teeth who eats like a horse. He got a clean bill of health at his nine month check-up, where he was also declared a string bean bobble head after logging in in the 25-50th percentile for weight, but 95th+ percentile for length and head circumference.

Aaaaaand, speaking of his head...(like that segue?) Let's discuss his hair. Everyone agrees it needs a cut. I'm just scared of him going from looking like a baby to looking like a lawyer overnight. (I can say that because I technically still am one, right?) So, before any scissors graze on his gorgeous locks, let's take a look back and admire the crazy. Is it curly? Is it straight? Is it brown? Is it turning blond? Is it a wig? You be the judge.

Straight:




Wavy?:




Freshly washed and extra fluffy:




Curly:


{His secret? Heat, humidity, and a touch of product called "I Can't Believe it IS Spit-Up"}


Top-Knot:



The wet look:




Close-ups of the windblown look: (these crack me up)



The wet and windblown look:




The possible toupee?


{Oh, don't eat sand, bro!}





ETA: Oh! I forgot to add one more from back in March.  The mohawk: