Princess donates her hair

Before shot

Today, Princess cut her hair in order to donate it to Locks of Love. Unfortunately, we were 1/2 inch short for them, so Pantene's Beautiful Lengths will gladly accept her golden locks.

Either way, Princess was so happy to cut her hair off and get a little spa treatment out of the deal. Shampoo, styling, nail polish, balloon and costume ring...I'd say she was pretty happy about getting her hair chopped off.

THE Cut

There is absolutely no regrets or even thoughts about her hair. She simply grew her hair out for another person who needs it, she is truly humble and honorable. We are beyond proud of this little girl!

One proud little girl!

Comfort Zones

I have a bubble around me, it is my comfort zone, my blankie or my snuggy, if you will. I say it's literal, but my husband has convinced himself that it's figurative. For some reason I appreciate space. Maybe it is because I am an only child, so I wasn't exposed to privacy or space issues. I'm not one of those "huggy" people either, even if I know you.

Different people have different comfort zones or levels. My mother-in-law can have complete conversations with strangers on a daily basis, she doesn't seem to have a comfort zone, she's just nice to everyone. We have told her several times that she is too nice for California! My husband is very sociable and people tend to love him; however, he doesn't like to be in big crowds.

I am not very sociable therefore in this texting/emailing world, I am completely comfortable. We are symbiotic. The one thing that I absolutely hate is ordering food. It doesn't matter if it is on the phone or in person, I just have no love for it at all.

For as long as I can remember, my husband and I have argued over whose turn it was to call the pizza delivery or Chinese take-out place. Fortunately for me, my husband is a wonderful enabler and allows me to convince him to order whatever is needed. This method worked for years until the wonderful invention of online ordering. Both of us feel better because I am now able to contribute something when ordering food.

When Military Dad wants to order something and he decides he is going to force me to act out this process, I will make sure that our choices are companies that have online ordering. Once again, he is an enabler and allows me to get away with this. This went on for months, until one day he decided to stop enabling me.

It all started with a trip to the beach. On the way there we noticed a Sonic and we decided that it was Cherry Limeades and Tots on the way home. MD starts teasing me relentlessly about not being able to order; even going so far as to comment on my anti-social habits.

Despite his best efforts, we had a wonderful time at the beach. Upon arriving at Sonic, MD decided from out of nowhere that I should order. I tell myself, "It's going to be okay, you are ordering 4 Diet Cherry Limeades and 4 Tots, how hard can it be?"

Yep! This is where that connection from my brain to mouth malfunctions at its finest. Please read Military Dad's post about the conversation, because honestly it's so horrific, I can't revisit it or I will need more therapy. What should have taken maybe a minute to order, took about 4 minutes and a Sonic employee almost in tears. It was that bad.

Evidently, I should have gone through this horrifying experience years ago, because now MD doesn't even bring up who is going to order anymore. If he wants food that doesn't have online ordering, he makes the call. I think he also feels at this point that he isn't enabling me anymore, he is saving me and several food employees from therapy. It's a win-win for both of us.

Pride doesn't even begin to describe how I feel...

I have mentioned several times about how my daughter seems to be years ahead of herself in maturity and intelligence. It's absolutely amazing the innocence and depth that children possess.

Years ago I decided that I wanted to donate my hair to Locks of Love. Unfortunately, I have issues with taking out stress on my hair, therefore I color it or cut it regularly. Due to the process involved in creating hair pieces they need long, healthy, un-colored hair. Since college, my hair hasn't been longer then shoulder length or anywhere near its natural color.

I knew after doing this research, that I would never be able to donate my hair. My daughter being ever so observant asked me why I was so upset. I tried my best to explain to a then 4 year old about the reasons for Locks of Love. It was difficult, depressing and utterly uncomfortable to explain how not everyone is blessed with health.

Princess, being the empathetic person she is, understood and immediately stated that she wanted to give her hair to people who couldn't grow their own. What had left me depressed just minutes ago, had me amazed and proud of such a huge personality trapped in a little girl's body.

So for the next two years we have been taking care of her gorgeous blonde hair in order to whack it off and give it away. Every few months she had me measure it to see how close she was. Not once during this entire period, did she every change her mind. Our goal was to have it long enough, she could easily cut off the minimum requirement (10 inches) and still have neck or shoulder length hair. She is about one inch from neck-length haircut.

After helping her wash her hair this evening, I came to the realization that her type of hair might not be able to make it that last inch. For every person, no matter the hair type, there is this magic length at which hair stops being healthy. Her hair appears to be thick, however it is actually pretty fine, so I'm amazed it made to the length it has. After leaving conditioner in it, spraying with detangler and working out clumps of tangles, I had to finally come to terms that this was probably her magic length...just one inch shy of our goal. I was heartbroken for her.

In one last attempt to save our goal, I thought maybe it was just split-ends wreaking havoc, because then we could get a trim and let it grow some more. However, after relentless searching, I couldn't find a single split end.

I got out the ruler and checked to see if maybe I was wrong and we actually had hit our target. The number 9 kept staring back at me, no matter what chunk of hair I measured.
Princess:  "How much more Mommy?"
Me:  "Still one more inch, unless you want to cut it higher."
Princess:  "OK"
Me:  "OK, what? You want to cut it higher?"
Princess:  "Sure."

I measure up to 10 inches, the magic number. It would be about the middle of her ear in length. I show her with my finger the magic length and then try my best to show her what her hair would like that short.

Princess:  "OK, when can I cut it?"
Me:  "Um, go show your father."

MD:  "That's pretty short, are you sure you want to cut it now? If so, we can make an appointment this week and we can donate it."
Princess:  without hesitation..."I want to give my hair to someone who needs it."
MD:  "Sounds good, why don't you take a day or two and think about it, and if that's what you want to do, Mommy will make you an appointment."

Now Princess is off making a pretty big decision for a 6 year old. I'm in shock, I think. My daughter is such a better person than I am, and I'm worried that she may regret cutting it so short. However, I already know that as soon as it is cut, she will start asking how much longer until we can cut it again. Princess has mentioned before how she wants to keep donating her hair to Locks of Love. At 6, she already understands that it's just hair and it doesn't define her in any way. So, how do I come to terms with it?

How do I NOT mess my kids up?

As I dropped Princess off at school this morning I had time to reflect on a few things. First, she was completely comfortable saying good-bye and running off to play. Normally she has me wait until it's time to line up for class, then she's okay with me leaving.

I watched her walk around and decide where she wanted to play. Like her mother, she went straight for the monkey bars, with a dress on. (I'm patting myself on the back for making her wear bike shorts underneath). Then she got bored and went to the swings. Most kids were pumping their legs trying to be the highest, but she just moved her legs enough to create movement. Then she looked around and watched other kids.

She is extremely observant for someone her age, she rarely misses a thing. When MD and I have to speak about the covert operations Santa or the Tooth Fairy undertake, we have to wait until she is asleep, then close the doors and turn the TV on. She does not miss a thing.

This is what led me to my second thought. She is already developing some serious obsessive compulsive tendencies. When my alarm goes off on my phone, she has already had her backpack on and ready to go for about 15 minutes. If I even look like I'm trying to hurry, she panics and thinks we are going to be late. Yes, I mean panic, there are times when I think she is about to let loose some tears because we may be on time, instead of early.

I blame this issue on myself and MD's inability to be late for anything. Hell, we can barely be on time. Normally we are about 10 to 15 minutes early for anything/everything. I'm not sure where or when we got this bad, but there are times when we actually sit and wait for 10 minutes before we allow ourselves to leave. I'm sure the tension in the house is palpable and Princess, not missing a thing, sees that being late is not an option.

My last thought before slipping into my funk, is she never turned to look for me on the playground. Once she said her good-byes, in her mind, I was already walking home. Part of me is proud that she is comfortable and independent enough at school. The other part of me wanted her to know that I was still there, if she needed anything. After thinking about it for some time, I realize that last part is more about me than her. I want her to be independent, I need her to be strong.


Now here I sit, trying to think of ways to embrace her as an independent person, prevent her from having OCDs, and make sure through my own actions that I don't really screw her up for her future.

Being a parent is a daily art form of dealing with conflicting issues. How do you get her to behave and be well-mannered, but not be too strict? How do you stress the importance of organization and cleanliness, but allow her to go play in the mud? How do you get her to be nice and share things, but know that sometimes her and Little Dude are going to have throw some punches (figuratively, I hope)? How do you get her to be a good leader and example, but not be too easy on her little brother?

I have a feeling that this starts with who you are as a person. You honestly cannot tell your child, "Do as I say, not as I do" and expect them to actually listen or even do it. Being a good person and taking responsibility for your own actions is probably the most important things a parent can do. In the past few years MD and I have been very good at changing the people we are for the better, so now what is the second step?

I'm not sure what the next step is, however I think for our little family, working on the time thing should probably be a priority.