Turns out my haircut was Wednesday. I had just sat in the chair for my trim when the stylist asked me, "So, what're we doing today?"
Without thinking, I replied, "Just a trim."
She starts snipping before settling into her line of little love questioning. (Honestly, what did we talk about before her?)
She barely got a word out when I said, "What do you think about that cut" as I pointed to another stylist down the line. She thought it would be "adorable."
Hmm...not exactly what I was looking for, but okay.
For those of you who haven't seen me in a while, I've been letting my hair grow long (for me). I've never let it get past that critical point (past the shoulders, almost down to the back) and I was determined I'd get there this time.
Because in my head, my hair looks like this.
But on my head, it looks like this.
So we cut it. And I LOVE it. No pictures yet, but it looks something like this, only way less colorful and way more streamlined.
This morning I saw a poll that said 60 percent of American's think the country is heading in the wrong direction, evidenced by rising gas prices, mortgage crises, and grocery bills.
I think it is heading in the wrong direction, evidenced by bigger cars, even bigger houses, and more more more mentality.
The abundance movement abounds. But I'm not sure what kind of abundance we're aiming for all the time. We're more grateful than we've ever been. Being grateful will get us more! I look around at fancy cars and big cars and even bigger houses and think, "Well yeah, duh! We ought to be grateful!"
I realize I sound cynical, and really, I'm all for the grateful movement--I'm not perfect at it, but I'm making progress at it. So today, I'm grateful that our great country has given my family choices and that we've been smart enough to make good ones. I'm grateful that our great country has given my family freedom that we've known when to exercise and when to resist.
Maybe it's headed in the wrong direction, I'm not astute enough on a worldly level to know these days. What I know on my small level is that I try to model manners for my daughter and say hello to strangers; water my plants during non-peak hours and cut my time in the shower; walk where I can and be efficient with driving when I can't; ask God for strength and courage each day He gives me; make my husband's lunch because I know how much he hates doing it. It all feels like the right direction to me.
I pray for people who do genuinely struggle in these times. People who can't pay the bills and who struggle to feed their family regardless of how hard they work. Those are the people who point me in the right direction--and I hope they're the ones who are getting polled.
There are some days when I get blindsided by motherhood. Like this morning. An early, chirpy, day-away-from-summer morning. Little love is still sleeping, husband is getting ready for work, and here I come bounding down the stairs to start some oatmeal. I round the corner and staring me square in the face are a toy baby, a stuffed tiger, and a big fluffy duck, sitting in a perfect row.
I took a look around at every drop of love she's left for me to see. Because sometimes, if I'm not looking for it, I look right over it. And me? I don't want to miss one thing.
Go Slow (formerly one small step) to Go Fast:
I watched the golf tournament last weekend. I don't golf, but I jumped on the band wagon and enjoyed every minute of it. At one point, Tiger was in a tough spot. The announcer said, "I want all the young people watching this to pay attention. Watch how he slows everything down, every move, and concentrates."
And he did. He slowed his breath, his walk, his movements, everything. He slowed everything down. It was something to see and it was one of the few times I was really glad a commentator commented. But I'm still wondering why he left old people out.
Go slow to go fast.
Today we're going to the pool and then we'll probably have a Popsicle.