1. My sister spent a few days with us last week during her spring break. We snuggled with Sam and shopped at Hobby Lobby and watched Revenge. And one night, after baby boy went to bed, we baked chocolate chip cookie bars and played Bananagrams. (Recipe to come.)
2. Temperatures are still hovering in the 40s here in central Pennsylvania. Though we did have one day recently that got up to 50 degrees. So Sam and I busted out the BOB. He loved the inaugural ride! We can’t wait for warmer days and trail runs.
3. Our spring and summer calendar is quickly filling up. So far: at least three trips to Virginia, one to Florida, and several trips to visit our family and friends to the east. We’re also hoping to spend some time — and possibly move! — to the west. And by west, I mean, about 100 miles from where we currently live. Fingers crossed!
4. I got the worst haircut of my life last week. I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. See, I’ve been visiting the same salon for the past eight years. The stylists wear black capes and offer you hot tea or water with lime upon your arrival. The salon is naturally lit and smells like aromatherapy, and every cut includes a complimentary head/neck/shoulder massage. But … it’s almost an hour from our house. This wasn’t a problem when I commuted there to work every day, but it’s much more challenging now that I’m home with our almost six-month-old. I was only able to arrange and schedule one cut since Sam was born, and even that was challenging. So I decided to search for a salon closer to home. I found one with the word “spa” in its name, so I assumed it must be nicer than the clipper huts and kustom kuts that are common in our small town. I was a bit leery when I arrived at the salon last Thursday night, and was greeted by the potent smell of perm and hair clippings on the floor. But the stylist seemed friendly, and my instructions were simple: trim the layers and cut long, side-swept bangs. We chatted while she got to work, and I was satisfied until she started to dry and style … and cut some more. She took the flat iron to my hair, which I haven’t done in about four years. And when a piece on my right side seemed out of place, she just snipped it off. Then she asked if I liked the bangs, and I did, but there was no shape to them. So I asked if she could better blend them in with the rest of my hair (which my former stylist has always done beautifully). She took this literally and cut them at an angle to almost meet my postpartum baby hairs. I almost cried right there in the salon chair. And I totally zoned out as she continued to straighten and curl and tease. And when she was finished, she said she loved my new “funky” look. And I wanted to say: Really, lady? I’m wearing a cardigan sweater and Sperrys. What about that says “funky?” Lesson learned. A good haircut is always worth the hour drive.
5. And after that sob story, I leave you with a few photos guaranteed to make you smile. Because this kid doesn’t care if I wear a headband and ponytail for the next four weeks.