Let me preface this with: I am in no way a professional barber. I am just cheap.
I cut my family’s hair. I even trim my own bangs, though I haven’t lately. The woman who cuts my hair (3-4 times a year, whether it needs it or not) gets a little frownie line between her eyes when she sees I have taken the scissors to my hair. I figure it is safe to say I am not exceptionally good at it.
Things were a little crazy (and a little lazy) the past week. My mom and sister came to visit from Texas! It’s fun to catch up, though in the electronic age there isn’t really much to catch up on I suppose. Thanks to Facebook and emails and unlimited long distance, it isn’t like we don’t get to share the important stuff. However, nothing beats actual live interaction, especially when kids are involved.
We have taken to having our dinner outdoors. It’s nice to eat under the shade tree, and whatever JD drops, the chickens clean up for me, so it’s rather win-win. Plus dinner tends to coincide with what I call the “witching hour”.
I was talking with my sister recently, and she commented “we sure do know how to make some work for ourselves, don’t we?” I laughed at the time, but that phrase haunted me for a few weeks.
Identity is a strange thing. It’s hard to let go of certain things or labels that we feel define us. I was a SAHM for so long, I found the last four months rather challenging. Oh wait, I am NOT a SAHM anymore.
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