First, let me say I'm tired so this is going to be short. However, I do have some newsworthy updates, so I wanted to make sure I posted them tonight.
The biggest news of the weekend is that Regan cut her hair and donated it to Locks of Love. She's been growing it for ages and she had to have a ponytail at least 10 inches long before she could donate it. She achieved her goal quite some time ago, but didn't want her hair to be too short after she cut it, so she grew it out beyond the 10-inch requirement. She now has a very cute chin-length bob, but is still indignant about how short it is. She has complained incessantly for the past two days saying that (a) she looks like a boy; (b) she looks like Willy Wonka (the Johnny Depp version); and (c) she still looks like a boy. I told her I didn't know why she was so upset-- it could always be worse . . . she could look like the Gene Wilder version of Willy Wonka. She didn't think I was very funny. So, I tried to reassure her that it isn't so much that she looks like a boy, but that Johnny Depp looks like a girl. She was, again, unmoved. In all seriousness, her haircut is super cute and I will try to post a picture of it here so you can all comment and tell her the same thing because obviously I have no credibility with her.
Regan still plays basketball and had a game on Saturday morning immediately after her haircut. She's energetic and aggressive on the court, so it's fun to watch her. Unfortunately, I spend most of her games either in the girls' locker room or out in the hallway with Finn because he tries to exercise dominion over any basketball within a 10-mile radius of him (you should see him try to pick up two regulation-size basketballs at the same time). He also has no respect for the boundaries of the court; the authority of referees; or the momentum of a herd of 60-pound 9 year-olds.
And while I'm still somewhat on the subject of Regan, I should let you know that she has started asking me to adopt a baby. Shortly after Jeff died, she came to the stark realization that we would never have another baby and she was bothered by it. So, she has now decided that adoption is a viable solution. She really started putting the screws to me yesterday--wanting me to commit to it; wanting to know how much it costs and what the process is; wanting to know how long it would take, etc. Now one of two things has happened here: either she's lost her flippin' mind, or she has become a very shrewd negotiator. She probably figures that by asking for a baby, I will now happily acquiesce to a dog. It's the ole' bait and switch--she comes at me for a dog and I am steadfast in my refusal, but when she comes at me for a baby, she knows that a dog is going to sound better and better. So, I think I've got her figured out . . .
Aubrey, however, isn't taking any chances. She told me that I better not go around adopting anyone because I have four wonderful kids "and that should be enough . . . anymore is just one more person for me to babysit." I reminded her of all the times I have thanked her personally for babysitting and that my gratitude should be ample reward for her labors and, besides, Regan had already promised to take care of it so Aubrey wouldn't have to, but she didn't appreciate my flair for sarcastic humor. So, I reminded her, it could always be worse . . . she could look like the Gene Wilder version of Willy Wonka.
We rounded out the weekend with a Pizza Party at our friend's house after he took Aubrey and Regan bowling. Jack did not want to go and chose, instead, to take his shirt off and watch Nickelodean. (???) Meanwhile, Finn commandeered our friend's rocking horse and spent the afternoon alternately riding it and defending it from his two baby friends who were also trying to ride it. He was finally distracted by (what else?) . . . a basketball.
Well, it's late and I'm tired--I was out late last night and have a busy day at work tomorrow. Last night, my band played another show. We had a nice crowd and I was very grateful to the many friends who came out just to watch me perform. Thank you, thank you! It really was so nice to see all of you there!
Until next time,
Kelly
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4 comments:
Tell Regan that some baby will always have to be the LAST baby and for your family Finn is it. Then go out and promptly get her a kitten. ha ha I used to dress my cat in baby clothes and give him a bottle. (And I always thought I was good to animals.) Cats are easier to take care of than dogs. Try a cat first. The shelter is probably full of them. Also tell her that she has no idea what a "boy" haircut looks like until she sees the picture of me when I was seven!! Love, Mom
Read Regan my Poem entitled, "You Can't Have A Hamster" but replace the word "Hamster" with "an adopted sibling" and then she'll understand...wait a second, maybe that won't work, do adoptive siblings need a new plastic ball to use for exercise? Well if the the poem doesn't work to cheer her up, tell her that she could look like the Lyle Lovett version of Lyle Lovett, toodles!
Talk soon - just responded and my computer timed out. Agg! K
Tell her it could be worse, she could have even shorter hair like me and also have an extra 30 pounds added. When I was 9 months pregnant I always had thsi crazy hormone that told me to chop my hair off really short when I was at my biggest in my pregnancy. So, it could be worse. I have pictures to prove it.
Terri
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