Blake got his first haircut yesterday. I'd been dreading it - it took my mom 2 weeks of nagging at me night & day before I wore down, & I probably would have been able to hold out if my dad and the Boy hadn't joined in. I loved - LOVED - Blake's long, uncut hair. I loved the rockstar curls. I loved the wildness.

But now that all is said & done, I love the new Blake haircut. It's still long and it's still curly, but now you can see the roundness of his punkin-head.

Perhaps to celebrate his new look, he read me a story today: Wemberly's Ice Cream Star. He spoke maybe 33% of the words, but all of the emotion. He amazes me.

exhibit a: the old hair, in a revolutionary pigtail

exhibit b: the haircut. even in my lap, he squirmed like a hooked fish. hey, i need a haircut too!

exhibit c: the new hair. disturbingly cute.

I've spent most of the weekend sewing up the costume, knitting, and marking. The marking is killing me. I managed to polish off a chunk of the oldest assignments, but now that Sunday is in ashes I feel like a big pile of guilty garbage. Unless I take a day off I won't be able to do more than chip away at the pile before parent interview night on Thursday. Still, life goes on. If I could only get Goneril off my back and my 9 Xanders in line, I wouldn't care about the pile. Plus, I'd have considerable more spring in my step (and fewer pimples...and a better haircut...and more will to exercise...and healthier meals...but the scratches on my face are from Blake, so I'd still have those.)

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 10/23/2005 07:26:00 p.m.