A cut above the rest

Walking up into the playroom one afternoon this week, I noticed a dark blur on the carpet next to Anna's little coloring table. I hunkered down for a closer look and then groaned. I knew it would happen, it's practically a right of passage for all children, but still... ugh.

The blur was a sifted pile of c-shaped curls. Anna's curls. I guess safety scissors only protect fingers, not style. More than half my irritation was because I'd JUST taken the girls a week ago for haircuts and they'd both looked coiffed and adorable. It occurred to me that the whole day I'd been wondering at Anna's spiky hair but just assumed it was a bad case of bed head.

But no. She's cut herself some lovely wings right over her ears, a chunk along the back left and at least an inch off a top layer of bangs. When I called her in, she just smiled.

"Anna, did you cut your hair?"

"Mmmhmm...", delivered with a pleasant smile.

"You are NEVER supposed to cut your hair. I'm taking your scissors away until... until... until it all grows back!"

I know I can't really get mad at her, it's just hair and it's not nearly as bad as it could have been. Hell, when I was little my brother just about left me bald with his gentle ministrations. Which reminds me, that's another warning I need to pass along to my budding stylist.

"You are NEVER supposed to cut your sister's hair either!"

I'm sure that'll just put the idea in her head, of course. But what can you do? At least she cut her hair and not the curtains or the sheets or the electrical cords, right?

And it's winter. Hat season.

Big Girl Bed... how time flies

Silvia moved into a big girl bed this weekend (aka the toddler bed version of her crib). We were a little worried at first because she is so much more feisty than Anna was at that age. I figured we'd spend a week or more walking her back to her room in the middle of the night when she escaped.

But no, she loves it and she stays happily in bed until someone come to get her. She has a real blanket and her very own pillow and is just thrilled to pieces to be All Grown Up now. I'm a little misty, just because this is the final good-bye to the crib, once and for all. But it's so nice that she can get in and out and feels safe and comfy in her room. Remember all those months, years, trying to get her to sleep in her own room; night time hysterics, coming to bed with us at 3 A.M.? Those are (mostly) behind us.

(Truth be told, though, both girls have been having night terrors lately, leaving mom and dad groggy in the morning from midnight comforting. But that's another story for another day.)

Next thing you know, she's going to want her Big Girl Porsche.

Guess this means it's time to clean my room

While I was getting ready this morning, I noticed a disturbing amount of total quiet coming from the other side of the room. Anna and Silvia were playing by my bed and, as I walked over to see what was going on, I was met by a distressing sight. And gross, so gross.

They were both sitting there with pacifiers in their mouths that Anna had fished out from underneath the bed. Now, considering Anna hasn't used a binkie in years, Silvia never used one, and the ones under the bed were infant-size, those suckers had been entertaining the monsters under the bed for at least 4 years.

AT LEAST.

I let out a big "EEK! EWWW! YUCK!!!" and un-plugged the girls with a distinct popping sound. Then I marched them both to the bathroom for an extended date with their toothbrushes.

Probably I need to peek under the bed and see what else is there. Lord only knows what other relics of newborns past are lurking there.

Here's the one, I knew I'd seen it before... Anna, age 6 months.

Sisters