Well, the little nausea / dizzy / headachy bug that the boy and I shared together on Sunday turned out to be a hefty forty-eight hours of YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING. Oh, it went dormant for a bit on Monday morning, so that both the boy and I woke up and thought, “Yay! We’re well!” And then we thought, “Pizza! Pizza!”
Because we were very hungry, after having laid around for an entire day without eating anything substantial on our delicate tummies.
Of course, I didn’t want to rush into things by actually COOKING yesterday, because I thought I should conserve my strength and all, so there was pizza.
And then I skipped off to my hair appointment, because the wisdom that the good Lord has provided me in the form of THAT HAIR IS SO BLONDE, IT’S NEARLY WHITE needed to be covered up.
I don’t want to appear OVERLY wise, so that I make others feel insecure with their MY HAIR HAS NO WHITE IN IT YET TO DISPLAY MY OWN WISDOM insecurities.
(I realize that this is totally destroying your image of me, where you recite the old commercial line to yourself… “Does she or doesn’t she?” The answer is a solid, “Yes, ma’am… she does! With gusto! And she pays top dollar for a good color, because she’s afraid that a Walmart coloring kit and her own kitchen sink could end in a tragedy worse than anything Shakespeare ever wrote.”)
Well, my Hair Wizard said that she could trim Thing 2’s curls while the color sat on my head, and there was much rejoicing, because those curly locks NEEDED a good trimming. And then there was much hesitation in the form of THIS IS MY BABY!! I CAN’T CUT HIS CURLS YET!!
So, you know, I went back and forth with the whole, “Should we trim the toddler’s hair? Or should we not? Should we? Or should we not?”
Ultimately, it was Hubs, in his cold-hearted lack of sentimentality in regards to first haircuts, who said, “TRIM THAT MOP UP OR PUT A HAT ON IT!”
I have snapshots of THE FIRST HAIRCUT, because OF COURSE I DO.
And I will also just say that in the middle of my LATHER, RINSE AND REPEAT at the sink… after my color had taken hold… and after Thing 2’s long curls were a thing of the past… but before I actually got my hair TRIMMED… I was slapped across the face with Act II of my Sunday nausea bug so hard, I could barely breathe. And then the headache hit. And then I was all, “Excuse me? But I’m going to need to pull my head out from beneath the faucet and just go home, before I die of nausea and show you the pizza that I ate for lunch by putting it in liquid-like form on your salon’s floor.”
Which is a polite way of saying, “I have to leave before I puke all over myself and this fancy twirly chair.”
My Hair Wizard (bless her good heart) offered me every manner of barf bag from her own car and advice on Fighting The Battle On Nausea, before I left her salon with WET HAIR.
Wet hair, people.
More specifically, UNCUT, wet hair.
And it wasn’t even combed out, because I WILL PUKE IF YOU TAKE THE TIME TO DO THAT.
And I didn’t even write her a check for the beautiful color, because I WILL PUKE IF I TAKE THE TIME TO DO THAT.
Thankfully, I think she trusts me, as we’ve been together since Abraham Lincoln was in office, and she knows where I live. She has an actual address to send the thugs with baseball bats to, if I tarry to long on my delinquent payment.
So that is the story on how I came to be in bed again at 4 PM yesterday afternoon, and how I just STAYED THERE all night long. And then the boy came home from his day out sometime around 5:00 yesterday, and announced, “I don’t feel so well again, Mom. I don’t think I can eat any dinner.”
Which was, you know, FINE, because Mama needs to keep the vertigo at bay by keeping her head on this pillow, so I won’t be cooking (again) tonight.
That boy and I were a team of Big Pathetic, let me tell you, while Mam and Hubs manned the toddler and kept him from destroying the house or chewing through the baby gate. Honestly… I don’t know how moms handle life when they need to be in bed… and they have a toddler in the house… and NO FAMILY IN TOWN TO HELP OUT.
I am so thankful that we are blessed with grandmas and aunts, right here in Small Town, USA.
But now… well… I think the boy and I are officially on the mend, and all I can say is IT’S ABOUT TIME, because I think I’d rather cut off one of my own thumbs with a dull butter knife than experience the dizziness.
… I will leave you with some snapshots of The First Haircut.
THE BEFORE SHOTS.
Y’all carry on and have a happy Tuesday.