Still, those 48 hours flew by and seemed barely enough. A mere gulp of air when I was hoping for something more akin to an oxygen mask, i.e., something to do the actual breathing for me for a while.
During their absence, I decided to dye my hair. I actually had been meaning to do so since December. Of course, I felt we really couldn't afford for me to plunk down another $75 for highlights at the hair-dresser. Thus, back in December I purchased a box of Garnier Nutrisse hair color Champagne blond.
I have never dyed my own hair before. Indeed, I wish I had never jumped on the coloring carousel, because once you get on, it is really hard to get off.
But, when my first son was born, the child-bearing hormones sucked my natural color right out of me and left me staring in the mirror at much darker blond hair. I eagerly sought out a friend to color my hair. She continued to color it for me for a while, but it was always a bit too light and looked artificial.
The night before my youngest brother's wedding, my sister offered to put in highlights. I was paralyzed with fear that it would end up orange and be documented in wedding photos for the rest of time. However, my sister worked her magic and even styled it the next morning. I can honestly say that my hair looked the best it has ever looked before and since on that day. My husband loves the photos from that wedding. Indeed, I take the photo with me when I request highlights at the hairdresser (wishing I could get my scanner to work - groan), which is what I've been doing ever since.
However, true to my laid-back nature, I have never been on-top of the coloring routine. I tend to get highlights twice a year (which is about what I felt we could afford). Thus, I once heard my sister-in-law snap at my brother when he made a comment about my roots. Even still, I never jumped to the 4 to 6 week suggested schedule for coloring.
So this time, I thought I'd do it myself and save some cold hard cash. My sister has magic; I don't. As soon as I finished rinsing the color and conditioner out of my hair, I realized that it turned out a bit more reddish blond than I had intended (close to orange, but not quite).
It really isn't as bad as I'm making it sound. Both hubby and ES have said that it is fine and not too red. In the grand scheme of this week, it is a minor detail.
I'm sure that the surgery on my foot had far more to do with my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week than my own hair issues. It just makes everything a tad bit more difficult. Here is a photo to show what I'm dealing with:
MS told me that I should let him draw a nose and mouth on the bottom of my foot, since the two wounds look like eyes. Great!
I hobble around as best I can, trying to place all the pressure of that leg on the heel (which then makes the muscles on the back of my leg sore). Twice a day I apply hydrogen peroxide and bacitracin and cover the holes with large bandages. Since the bandages don't stay in place, I also wrap it.
All of this makes wearing normal shoes difficult. Thankfully, I saved my special shoe from a foot surgery years ago. However, even that isn't good for going out in the snow. Thus, I have taken to merely letting the dog out the door (which leads to another realm of problems - like this morning, when he stopped traffic on our busy country road while he stood in the middle of the road trying to eat the carcass of a dead squirrel).
I'm finding it difficult to keep an adequate eye on the boys, as well as the dog. Dealing with anything has become more problematic. Sadly, my patience with the little boys has been at an all-time low.
As I was putting them to bed Monday night, I attempted to apply A & D ointment to MS's severely chapped lips. MS wriggled to avoid my finger full of ointment and ended up planting a large glob of it in my hair. I wasn't pleased, to say the least. As soon as I managed to get the stuff on his lips where it belonged, I left, refusing to lie down with them or sing.
Moments later, the two of them came running out of their room giggling. They ran to tell me that they both had A & D ointment in their hair. Their heads were a pasty mess and I had visions of sheets covered with greasy stains.
Tuesday morning, I gave them a bath. However, even after two shampoos, the stuff remained gummy in their hair.
Tuesday afternoon, I went to put YS down for his nap. MS was watching TV, or so I thought. Apparently, he did a little bit more.
He went searching for a screwdriver, to change the batteries in a toy that wasn't working. Instead, he found a blow torch that hubby had bought and attempted to hide from ES, my pyromaniac. MS figured out how to turn it on and burned the side of hubby's desk and the paper from several packages of batteries. Plus, he singed his hair. So, he went back upstairs and got a scissors and cut it off.
I must really be off my game because the only thing I noticed were the windows that he Windexed and wiped with Kleenex. When hubby came home from work he noticed a burning smell in the basement. I hobbled down the stairs to confirm it, wondering where in the world MS would have found something to start a fire with.
We questioned MS. He tried to say a ghost did it. Then, we noticed his hair. Yikes!
When I wrote to my funny friend Laura about this escapade, she replied, "As for the blow torch story-- dang. How scary that you have ghosts in your house. On the bright side-- did the heat from the blow torch melt away the A & D that wouldn't come out of his hair?" How I needed her dose of humor!
And I wondered why I couldn't cover up those stubborn gray hairs? These two boys have multiplied the grays a hundred fold.
I took these photos of them just as we were beginning to paint down in the basement. Besides MS's hair and clown mouth, you will notice YS has ink marks all over his face. Apparently, he noticed a tiny scar on MS's nose and wanted to draw one on his own nose.
After laying out a gazillion pieces of newspaper for them to paint on, MS proceeded to sit a foot away from the newspaper, open the orange paint and spill it on the floor. YS was repeatedly dipping his paint brush in various colors, assuring that I will never again find the paint colors the bottles claim to hold. Steadily, I felt my blood-pressure rising.
I know for a fact that I painted often with ES when he was this age. In fact, we usually had our three neighbor friends over to paint with us. My patience with them was bountiful. It was a joy to do craft projects with them. By the end of the painting day (Thursday), I was feeling such an intense sense of parental failure.
It is interesting for me to note, however, that my first knee-jerk reaction is to hear condemnation from others within my head. I don't think one person expressed doubts about my parenting ability this week (not even hubby, who would have been justified after coming home to discover his preschooler could have burned down the house). Yet, when I wrote my last blog post, I made it sound like others were expressing condemnation. Nope, that was my own head doing the talking. Granted, I was repeating things I have heard in the past, but still ... why do I do that when I am feeling self-condemnation?
And as I end this post, I'm feeling like I should change the title. It really wasn't the worst week ever. It was just a week where many challenges occurred and I didn't quite feel up to meeting them. Yes, I failed in many ways, but I think when my children retell this story, years from now, the emphasis will be on the crazy-nutso thing that MS did rather than on Mommy's momentary negligence.
Besides the kind comments from my readers, I suppose I can thank another friend, Moira, for helping me to gain better perspective (and not beat myself up so much). She sent me the funniest e-mail forward titled "Parenting isn't for everyone." This was followed by 21 hilarious photos, including a father carrying the tail of his young daughter's provocative mermaid costume (complete with faux exposed bosoms), a father carrying a pot with his infant dressed as a lobster inside it, a couple on a motorbike dragging along a stroller behind them, a father holding his child upside down over a wall to feed wild animals below, and several of children holding guns, axes, cigarettes and beer cans.
So, it wasn't really the worst week ever, but ... there's always next week.
5 comments:
Isn't it interesting how your own interpretation varies from someone else's? My first thought was: Ugh I know how that feels especially when you're under the weather (sick, surgery on your foot, etc.) and trying to deal with the children in the middle of it all.
And doesn't it seem like when it rains it pours?
I do think other mothers will feel a sisterhood with you. It's not all fun and games and it ain't easy even though that's the image we all want to portray.
p.s. Your hair color looks pretty good to me. It sure beats my mousy brown.
I don't have kids and thought, "Good Lord, bless her heart."
When I was younger, we would take care of my step dad's three grandchildren. Once it was just me and my sister (ages 13 and 16) for one evening and I have never been so tired in my life. As much as I love those babies, it was awful.
I hope your foot is on the path to recovery.
Don't be discouraged about the hair color (which looks nice) home color can take a few tries before you find the one that works consistently. Stay away from Herbal Essences, bad things have happened for me with that brand. If you do have any red tones in your hair though, home color can be more difficult. Red tones are tough, I've turned my hair orange.
CG - Yes, I think my experiences will make other stay-at-home mothers feel more sane because someone else is struggling in similar ways.
It would be great if I could heal from this surgery without having the kids around. Oh well. No chance of that.
Liz - Yes, children are exhausting. That is why most women have them when they are young enough to keep up.
I think I must have red tones in my hair that merely came out with the coloring. The color is fine on the ends, just at the roots it seems a bit orange. I will avoid HE. I picked Garnier because it seemed easy and had a good conditioner (necessary for my fine hair).
My kids have made my life so crazy that I long for uneventful, boring days. I never get one though.
I think you're hair looks great! I need to get myself out of that cycle (my kids, too, sucked my natural hair-color away and left me dark and dull). If I thought my hair would turn out that well, I would do it tomorrow!
Momo Fali - I, too, long for uneventful, boring days, but I'm sure I'd have far less to write about and the silence would probably kill me (say after a few months of it).
As for the hair, hubby keeps remarking that every day it seems to grow redder. Today, I bought another box - a shade darker - for five weeks from now.
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