Usurper of The Day

Something unexpected happened this week, Tuesday to be exact. It overrode, or usurped if you will, everything else that day.

We've had a whirlwind school season so far and it hasn't even started. We had planned to send Gwen to a Christian school here in town, but after an orientation Monday night, we sadly and suddenly pulled the plug. Gwen would have started kindergarten on Wednesday. But alas, she is still home, while I am frantic to enroll her in another school.

All day on Tuesday I was on the phone or the computer getting tips from the other moms, some of the admin staff at various schools, and even the inside scoop from some of the teachers I know. I spent hours talking to principals, librarians, and to poor Greg who was at work while I literally freaked out at home. As of this post, it seems we have found a school and we are pretty pleased with our decision.

Back to Tuesday....Mid afternoon, during Amelia's naptime, I came up for a much-needed breather, some water, and to answer nature's call and found this:

Kind of alarming to see scissors lying about on the bathroom counter when I've got a toddler, but Amelia was sleeping so I was able to remain calm.

And then I saw this:

Why, it's the bathroom rug. Hmm. What could be strewn all across it? Bend and peer at it closely.... scanning, scanning..... my, my, what's this in the waste basket?

My voice quavered like that of a starlet in a scary flick... "Gwen? Where are you, Bug? Gwen?" Of course with my mother's intuition, I vaguely understood what had happened. But until I saw Gwen, I didn't really grasp the abject horror that had now become my eldest daughter's hair....

BEHOLD!

THE MULLET TO END ALL MULLETS:

(Goodness, I didn't realize how much these looked like mug shots until just now.)

Well, I'll have you know that I am very proud of my reaction. Those of you who know me well will hopefully be rightfully impressed that I said,"Oh, wow. What happened here, Punkin?" while my inter-monologue skipped along with, "Are you KIDDING ME??!!! School pictures are in like TWO WEEKS! OH GREAT! Is that a MULLET?!! Wipe that smirk OFF YOUR FACE right this MINUTE!!! I can't believe I'm on the phone trying to find the BEST EDUCATION for you and-now-you-look-like-you've-just-been-through-chemo-no-wait-oh-man-you-look-just-like-my-brother-where's-the-Flowbee?" (Yes, we do really have one of those. Greg uses it religiously.)

So, we raced off to the salon. There was some hacking and some whacking and then we ended up with this:

I ask you, does this look like a child who is ashamed of her actions? Embarrassed? Chagrined in the least? Nope. We even asked her while we were out visiting last night how she thought Mommy felt about the new haircut. She didn't have any ready response, so I led the witness a bit. I asked if I was mad about it and she quickly, confidently answered "No", as if it was preposterous to think I'd be upset at all. Thus I must have successfully hid my true feelings of sorrow, resignation, and self-recrimination. But be assured, she is not getting unsupervised scissor time until she graduates from high school.

I keep trying to remember that it really could've been worse. I have an ongoing list of positives running through my head...

She didn't poke out her eye. She didn't maim herself or her sister. We can see her pretty eyes and face. No more tangles and fights about brushing. No more losing barrettes and hairbands. No more syrup and yogurt and milk getting into those long locks.

She is beautiful, but I really think this is just a precursor to the teen years. And I'm more than a little scared.