Bangs Gone Wrong

I’m only showing you this so I can get some love.


I admit it’s a shameless ploy for someone to tell me, “You don’t look that bad.”

It’s been about 4 months since my last haircut so I really was in desperate need of one.

I went to a very reputable salon and had a very nice girl do my hair since my regular hairdresser was not available.

I explained to the girl that I wanted my bangs cut at eyebrow length.

I’m fairly sure that in Hairdressing 101 one of the first lessons is cut the bangs in small increments.

Apparently, my hair dresser missed that day.


I know, get it out, laugh, I’ll wait.


What’s a girl to do besides just pull her hair back with a pin and wait a good 4 to 6 weeks?


And that’s what I’m choosing to do.

And pin my miniscule bangs back because in this case, nothing is better than something.


I see plenty of hat wearing in my future.

This Weekend

2 soccer games +

1 lacrosse game +

1 BBQ at friends +

1 hair coloring appointment that went wrong (I had thick blond tiger stripes on my head) and required a redo so the appointment took about 3 hours +

1 high energy friend over to play with the boys

= none of mommy’s work getting done.

Must work on something now.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

I knew this would happen.

I knew it was only a matter of time before someone in our house lost some hair.

Apparently my daughter has inherited the need to cut hair when she sees it.

My love of hair dressing started with Barbies.

Every Barbie I owned had short hair after several visits to my salon.

I was years ahead of G.I. Jane.

Then there were my sisters.

Poor innocent victims of my obsession.

My sister Amanda had a head full of curls. Anything I did to her hair really went unnoticed.

This was not the case with Kelly and her thin straight hair.

She would climb up on the chair and let me cut away.

She let this go one for years.

Until she was in 4th grade.

That year I took it a little too far.

Or, a little more accurately, a little too short.

With fourth grade class pictures looming the next day I set about cutting Kelly’s hair. There was no give like Amanada’s hair. I think her bangs were roughly two inches long when I finished them. Not good when there is four inches of space to fill.

I found Caroline’s handy work one day during naptime. Since naptime is now quiet playtime I just let her be when I heard doors being opened and closed. Apparently, she found the scissors in the craft room and went to town.

I really can’t be angry.

I mean, after all, you can’t fight DNA.

A Hairy Christmas

Our family has a history of silly gifts on Christmas day, from my Dad’s t-shirts, to wrapping a present in multiple boxes, to the matching pants my sisters and I received (not an intentional gag gift but one which occurred since apparently JCrew’s sizes run waaaaaay small).

So I figured this Christmas it was my turn to be the ring leader.

Browsing through etsy in September I came across some crocheted beards and I knew this was it.

Laura was wonderful to work with and created 7 beards for me to give as gifts for the family.

Feast your eyes on this awesomeness!

Top row:
My brother the hairy beast (I’m sure this look will be a hit on the college scene)
My dad (gray to match his current stache)
My husband (just what he needs, more hair 🙂
My brother-in-law (Very stylish and practical for shoveling snow in Michigan)
Front row: My sons who are in heaven to be with the big guys

Yes, I said seven but there are only six beards in the picture.

Where’s the 7th beard you ask?

Introducing Princess Grizzly …..

Her hat and beard were created by Laura.

Outside playtime this winter will probably lead the neighbors to think we’ve adopted three middle aged munchkins.

Check out Laura’s site here and have your own hairy fun.

All Made Up

In one of the most ironic occurrences of my life…I won a make up party.

What? Jennifer won a make up party? The girl who never wears make up?

Me. Shorts loving, pony tail wearing, wash n’go me won a make up party.

It’s as if Mother Teresa won a sex toys party….uh, bad image and not quite right in the analogy department…..

It’s as if Lady Gaga won a white polo shirt….Getting there…..

It’s as if I won a make up party…Yep that’s it.

A few weeks ago I used my Mother’s Day gift card and flippantly put my name in the fishbowl on the salon counter.

Well, I won. They pulled my slip of paper and called to arrange a make up party. During the call I was told by the Eastern European make up artist that we would be treated to 1) having our make up done, 2) drinking wine, and 3) possibly mini massages. At least that’s what I think she said. I was a little unclear due to her strong accent. For all I know I could have just agreed for my friends and I to become the oldest mail order brides ever.

I invited 5 brave friends who graciously showed up. I’m pretty sure the part in the email where I highlighted “free wine” was the catalyst for the five yeses.

Everyone gathered excitedly in the salon foyer waiting to be glamed up. We must have looked like a rough and haggard group because they brought us to wait in the employee break room which had the lighting of a romantic Italian restaurant.

Glasses of red wine were waiting for us as well as our ever so flattering brown robes. We could have been back up singers for Friar Tuck. Maybe we should start an all girls religious rock group – The Monastery Mommas.

The resemblance is striking, isn’t it

So there we were. Drinking wine, eating the cupcakes I had brought, and having hand massages. In groups of two our make up was done by our very enthusiastic make up artists.

Here’s my before shot…

Roughly 14 layers later I was done.

Large amounts of concealer, foundation, eye shadow, eye liner, and lipstick were involved in my transformation.

Would you like to see the end product?

I will say I was most impressed by their work

Just take a look.

Apparently, it’s all about the lighting and I’d have to agree.

I must remember to rid my home of those eco friendly light bulbs we’re using.

A good time was had by all at the party and I walked away with a little more make up knowledge.

In fact, I’m thinking of spiffing things up today and adding some chapstick to the mix.

In fact, it’s strawberry chapstick.

A little color on the lips always brightens ones face.

See, I did learn a few things at the party.

My Little Pony…Not for Little Ones Anymore

Recently, I discovered the “My Little Pony” of yesterday and the “My Little Pony” of today are quite different.

I turned on the television for Caroline in an attempt to distract her so I could cook dinner. Seeing as my only two choices were “Scooby Doo” and “My Little Pony,” I went with the later, and walked into our adjacent kitchen.

I listened to the show as I was taking out the boxed macaroni and cheese, frozen chicken nuggets, and applesauce began cutting some fresh vegetables for dinner. As I listened to more of the dialogue I realized something was amiss.

My sisters and I had a whole herd of ponies when we were younger. First came the ponies which later morphed into the unicorns and seahorses. In fact, we were such My Little Pony connoisseurs we even had the plastic traveling case. I know…we were the cool kids. We played for hours on end with the ponies, combing their hair with the color coordinating brushes and creating stories for our menagerie.

Good childhood memories.

As I walked back to the television, I was convinced the soundtrack must have been switched with another show. I had always associated My Little Pony with sweet stories of friendship and this is not what I was hearing. Something must be wrong with the channel. I pulled up the synopsis of this particular episode…. shortly before I ended up changing the channel.

Here’s what it said:

Friendship is Magic: Part 2

Twilight and the rest of her friends join forces to fight the evil Night Mare moon, who has not only stolen the magical elements of Harmony from Equestria, but also kidnapped the pony kingdom’s beloved Princess Celestia.

Not quite the “My Little Pony” that I remember.

In fact, it sounds a little like the description of a porno movie to me.

I Can Handle It

Since I haven’t cut or colored my hair in the last 3 months I decided to remedy the situation. I was beginning to look like a homeless hag so no one complained when I made the appointment and took a few hours for myself.

While browsing through the latest issue of Glamour, another client came in pushing a baby stroller. From all the “ooohing and ahhing” in the salon I gathered there was a newborn in that deluxe baby limo.

Alright one baby. I can handle that.

My colorist came in and began talking as if I was paying her by the word. This blonde crazy must have just consumed 64oz of caffeine before seeing me. Despite just meeting her, she instantly starts in with, “We’ve been trying to have a baby. I’m already in my 30’s. My brother has 3 kids. Our in-laws have been asking about grand kids.”

This  continues for probably 5 minutes despite the fact I haven’t uttered one word yet besides hello. “I’m sure it’s obvious because I’m so enormous but I’m pregnant!!!” Giggly shrieky laughter continues for about 30 seconds. That is so exciting, congratulations I say.

Alright two babies. I can handle that.

I sit and listen while I hear about the stroller purchase, the crib purchase, the clothing purchases, the room color, coordinating accessories in the room, and the baby’s name.

Another colorist comes in and starts working on the mom of the newborn. They begin catching up and all of a sudden there’s a “No, you are not!” “Yes, I am.” “No, you are not!”

Turns out the colorist is 42 and has a 12 week old. This was apparently a 2nd honeymoon baby which was not planned. After the birth she got her tubes clamped.

Alright three babies. I can handle that. End of story.

Normally, but not in my world.

Turns out the mom of the 12 week old is also 6 weeks pregnant. Yes, the same one whose tubes were clamped.

You know the minuscule percentage that’s always associated with procedures and how they can go wrong? Well, she’s spokesman for that group.

My first thought was, “Wow, that’s amazing.”

My second thought was, “Wow, you actually had sex 6 weeks after your delivery.”

Alright four babies. I can handle it but if you don’t hurry the f*** up with my hair I will freak out on all of you.

Sitting in the chair with a head full of foil, I begin pondering what the odds are of me being in this room at this time. It’s probably the same as getting pregnant while having your tubes clamped. I was half expecting octomom to walk in for highlights at any moment.

My colorist focuses back to me and says, “Do you have kids?” “Yes, 3. She starts asking me tons of questions about being a new mom. I happily answer and give her some helpful hints I have learned along the way.

Not once did I think to mention my recent miscarriage. OK, I did but I knew I would not say anything. There’s no need to rain on her parade. She’s so excited to be pregnant and become a new mom. It would be cruel to share anything with her that would cause her to worry during her last 14 weeks.

Towards the end of our conversation the question I had been anticipating while also dreading came. I calmly and simply answered her.

“So, do you think you will have more kids?”


The next time I need a haircut I may just hand Caroline a pair of scissors and say go to it.

After this experience, I know I can handle that.