How can I ever thank you all enough for your prayers, support and encouragement as we fight to bring Hailee home. We may not know much more than we did 5 days ago–but we do know one thing–we’re giving it all we’ve got!
I have realized something. There is one thing common in every single country around the world–first world, third world or in between world. When you deal with government departments it is always the same. You spend hours pressing buttons in an attempt to try and reach a human. And when you eventually do, well, they either have no idea how to answer your question, OR they refer you to another person–and then you begin the whole, glorious process of waiting again. Such joy.
Oh, and while I’m letting out all my frustrations on my blog. Can somebody please tell me why in the world the answering machine and voice mail were ever created? I have no idea. You can leave ten messages, or be on the brink of some serious disaster in your life…and still no-one calls you back. Baffling.
Soooo, I seriously needed a break–time out from all the stuff we’re dealing with. It got me down. My dear hubby thought of the perfect pick-me-up. “Let’s take the boys to get a haircut, Honey.”
Great idea hon, the perfect stress reliever.
Not!
Our boys are so wonderful, and for the most part, very easy going. EXCEPT when it comes to getting their hair cut. For some reason they, like most boys, have decided that the longer, the better. That cool means having it hanging right in front of your eyes so that you have to squint to see where you’re going. One had to have his longer locks pasted, and I mean pasted to his forehead. The other preferred the messy, just got out of bed look. Oh, and baby boy–he just tags a along and falls into the patterns of big brothers.
The time had come! We dragged them kicking and screaming to the hairdresser. The ultimate stress reliever for every worn out mom.
The end result–so much better.
Mmmm–I saw my big brothers be so mad about having this done. Does this face look mad enough? I love it–he has totally perfected the pout.
Oh Daddy, you have your camera–let me just pretend that I am so okay with this.
Needless to say, they wore hats the entire day because they were concerned people would think they looked dorky. Huh?
Oh my–how times have changed. When I was their age I didn’t give a toss what I looked like. Lord have mercy–I can’t even imagine what it’s like having teenage boys. I always thought my girls would be the ones so concerned about the way they looked. But I’m beginning to think I may have that the wrong way around.
Or maybe I just need to get my head out of the 80’s and finally get it–times are so different. You KNOW you’re getting older when your ten year old son says, “Mom, was there TV when you were a kid?” Or, while watching a pioneer-type movie, “Mom, did you wear clothes like that when you were young?”
Holy cow, they think I’m from an entirely different era.
