So, here's how the whole mullet scene went down.
E had been in Vegas on business. Truth? I was a teeny bit miffed about this. Work travel is an inevitable, but either I didn't listen, or he didn't let me know until pretty last minute on this one. So, I was on my own getting Soph to school in the mornings--which is very tricky with my early work schedule. In addition, I've never been a very patient person, but the end of the school year, health stuff, whatever, and enter bitchy bitchy Becky.
E came home yesterday, and was feeling a bit blue--and I had absolutely 0 tolerance. I just wanted to get OUT of the house, be ALONE, and not care for anyone at all, including myself. E put Sophie to bed (kind of early) in my bed, and didn't read her a story because she was being a brat. Then, he and I had a discussion (fight). This lead to him going downstairs and me sitting upstairs, my bitch motor revving at about a billion rpm. I HEARD Sophie talking and messing around in the bedroom, but thought, "E put her to bed. Just because he went downstairs to hide doesn't mean it's my job to check on her. I'm DONE being a mom today. So there." Of course, 20 minutes later, Soph comes tarting into the livingroom wearing one of my sweaters, announcing, "I look like Grandma!" It took me a second or two to really see what she had done. Imagine you're 3. You're in bed, but not tired. You start going through mom's dresser drawers and find a tiny pair of scissors. Bitchin'. So you grab the hair closest to your face and began to cut. Mullet is a slight exaggeration, I guess. Basically she cut all the hair she could see and reach to about 4 inches long--just even with her ears.
My very adult response was to blame her father, find my keys, and get the fuck out of the house. This morning while I was at work, E took Soph to the salon, and had the quasi-mullet issue rectified. I didn't take any pictures of the original debacle. But...
Here are the scissors she used.
Here is the hair I found on the floor. (Well, the hair that Jimmy didn't eat.)
And...Here is the new hair cut!
Today's best thing about being a mom:
This is a hard one today. I guess I can look forward to fewer fights about brushing her hair.
Today's worst thing about being a mom:
I'm kind of weary of always being on call. Let's see. 15 years till my lunch break?