Meanwhile the oldest is arm wrestling me for the computer so he can get on the internet and look up obscure facts about states including state songs and state birds. He has a school report due at the end of March.
When Logan was four or five years old, I listened intently to every word that came out of his mouth. I didn’t want to be one of those mother, you know, the kind that was too preoccupied with her own stuff to listen to her children.
Now I have perfected the art of listening to every fourth word and getting the general idea of the child’s interest. The boys change obsessions more than they change their underwear (which is in itself a subject best left unexplored).
DH is the same way. He has his own pet subjects and while I get the general idea, I sometimes miss the fine details. But I’m also pretty sure he couldn’t tell you the minutiae of my conversations about pretty paper and photographs.
When you get the family together we end up having a lively conversation that veers all over the map, with discussions ranging from children’s literature, to rather or not paper floats because it is made out of wood, to the likelihood of a toilet exploding while you are sitting on it.
Photo of the Day
Yesterday I went for my quarterly haircut. It’s not that I don’t like having my hair styled, I just generally don’t think about it until I can’t see past the fine stuff hanging in my face. I had it styled in a shaggy layered bob a la Heidi Swapp, without the cute perky blondeness.
The stylist put about four pounds of product in my hair to make the baby-fine stuff behave. It looked fabulous all day yesterday. But after sleeping on it all night, it’s a little sorry looking this morning.
My beloved son A told me I “look like you have spiders in your hair,” and added “It looks like Halloween.” Trust a kid to cut you down to size.
Anyway, while I was there I snapped a quick shot of the stylist chair with my hair in piles on the floor for my POD.