Tuesday. I’m washing dishes in the kitchen after lunch when I hear screaming and crying from the living room. I come in to find Ana, lying on the ground with Emma on top of her. Emma is telling her “no!,” and Ana, understandably dismayed and shocked (as am I!), is totally freaking out. I correct Emmy and pray that this is an isolated incident.
Thursday. Emma is looking through a viewfinder, laughing uproariously at every single picture. This gets Ana’s attention and envy, and she comes over, takes the viewfinder out of Emma’s hands, and tries to see what’s so funny. Emma snatches it back, then THROWS it right at Ana’s head. Ana, understandably dismayed and shocked (as am I!), begins showing me the bruise that is already coming up. I correct Emmy… and start to wonder what in the hee-haw is going on.
Tonight. Ana is carefully nursing Elmo back to good health. Seeing as how he’s on the mend (and is NOT dead), she’s very generous with him and gives him to “Auntie Em” for some tender loving care. Emmy is holding him in the kitchen, all wrapped up in a blanket, when Ana comes in and asks, “Elmo, please?” Emma shakes her head. I ask Emma to nicely share Elmo with her sister. Emma throws Elmo on the ground (no doubt prompting a relapse of his terminal condition) and shrieks, all while stomping her little feet. Ana, understandably dismayed and shocked (as am I!), takes Elmo and runs him to safety. I correct Emmy… and cannot believe that my sweet easygoing girl is a fire-breathing dragon underneath the pudgy cheeks and curls! When did this happen!?!
On the bright side, this lashing out is proof that our baby girl can hold her own with her big sister. After nearly two years of protecting “the baby” from the bigger, stronger, older sibling… we’re actually kind of scared on Ana’s behalf now. Seriously! The playing field has evened out considerably, and the scales (literally) tip in Emma’s favor. Oh, baby…
We took the girls to Lawton today to run some errands. Because Wes was with me and could sit with the girls, I took this opportunity to finally get my hair cut. Hallelujah! My hair has been a drama in and of itself this past year. Unlike probably every other women in the continental United States, I don’t have a hairdresser. I don’t have a specific beauty shop that I go to. I don’t even frequent beauty shops. I’m a hair nomad, wandering from discount hair-cutter to discount hair-cutter. Last year, when I went to ProCuts and had the brilliant idea to let Wes pick out my hairstyle from a magazine (which I won’t be doing again anytime soon, thank you), I ended up with a layered cut that I had no time/knowledge/desire to style. And when you have thick hair, that kind of cut can tend to look… well, HUGE, when you don’t do something to it. I looked like a giant mushroom. And no matter what I did or had other ProCuts stylists do to me, it just got worse and worse… and shorter and shorter, as they tried to correct it. Anyway, here we are, a year after the layered cut, and the shortest layer was finally just past my chin. I went right on back to ProCuts, got in the first available chair, and told the stylist to work her magic by making my hair all one length again. And she did. God bless her. It’s a boring cut, but I’m a boring hair kind of girl. I finally feel like I can do my own hair again. Or just wash it and go. Which, honestly, is what I do every day anyway. Ha!
Tomorrow, the girls and I are heading to Fort Worth for a birthday party. (Wes will be working. At least he got today off!) This is the first time I’ve been down there since Christmas. You know, you would think that since we live just a few hours away from my family, we’d get down there more often than we get down to San Antonio (a seven hour drive away)… but the only time we go and see my family is en route to see Wes’s family! This should make me feel guilty. And it does. I’m comforted, though, in knowing that no one can feel slighted on either side of the family since the way we’ve been doing it has ensured that everyone is getting equal time, no matter how close or how far away they live. Of course, we spend the holidays like chickens with our heads cut off, trying to be everywhere at once, but… well, who doesn’t, right? I’m super excited about seeing my cousin’s son celebrate his third birthday with all of his little girl cousins. (And his manly little brother!) Ana has been super excited about “Coby’s birthday cake.” We all have our priorities, don’t we?
I should probably close this and do the ironing. Or eat some cookies while I watch Wes work out. I think I shall go with the cookie option…
Jenn Faulk 