The Cutting of the Hair

I was cleaning under the bathroom sink a few days ago when Jackson wandered in. With a surprising quickness that I have come to expect from a little boy who is beginning to figure out the need to move very fast when he is doing something that he shouldn’t, Jackson grabbed the clippers and a pair of scissors and was instantly in the other bathroom cutting his hair. Seriously. He had the clippers plugged in and was already working on the front by the time I got my head out from under the sink.

I decided to let him go with it and see how well he did. His hair was getting a little unruly anyway (see previous post) and he needed a trim. And boy, did he get one.
He actually did a pretty decent job. Then he broke out the scissors and it started to get a little short. Meanwhile, Tucker was starting to feel a little left out. After all, only those with hair can get haircuts. When one is rapidly approaching the age of three and is still hairless, it might seem as though a first haircut is far in the distant future.
What to do? Use some of your brother’s hair as a toupee!
Aaaaah. Content at last.
We had to call Daddy in to finish the job as Jackson was suddenly suffering from a severe case of remorse.
However, Jackson quickly realized that his new hairstyle wasn’t so bad after all when I let him style it.
Not that there was much to style. We’re all still getting used to it; he looks older and I had a difficult time finding him at the park the next day, but overall, the ease of maintenance is very nice.
On a side note, I made the Pioneer Woman’s Apple Fritters yesterday morning and they were outstanding!
The glaze didn’t go very far, so some of the fritters got powdered sugar instead, but those with the glaze were by far the best. Mmmmm. I’m trying to hold off so that Papa and NeNe can have some when they get here. After noon, I’m not making any promises.

Hiking with Jackson and Tucker

The weather has been so nice lately that we have been able to do a lot outdoors with the boys, which is good because they have been getting pretty sick of being indoors and we were getting pretty sick of their increasingly outrageous antics. A few days ago, we went to a nearby state park to hike (translation: Seth and the boys were on the lookout for a cougar attack).

We made it about halfway up the trail before taking a side loop down the mountain in order to make it back by dark. There was too much for those little boys to look at!
It’s been so nice that we’ve been able to take the kids and Pike out nearly every day, except Sunday when it snowed. We tried a new church that day, but it didn’t go so well. One of Seth’s hunting friends invited us and we really liked it. The only problem was that the church was really, really, really old and we sat in the balcony in order to keep the boys from drawing any unwanted attention to us. I don’t know what we were thinking. When Seth got up to bring the boys to children’s church, their footsteps on the wood floor combined with the creakiness of the building drowned out the pastor’s voice.
They made it all the way to the other side of the balcony before Jackson decided that he needed me to go with him. He broke away from Seth and thundered back across the creaky floor as Tucker shouted, “Hey Mommy! I’m over here!!!!”at the top of his lungs. The pastor stopped talking during this because his voice couldn’t be heard over the pounding of feet and the roaring laughter of the congregation. Talk about wishing the floor would open up and swallow you.
I decided that the best course of action would be to take Jackson down the steps closest to us and then try to sneak behind all of the pews, which are set up in a half circle. We made it to the bottom of the steps where we were met by a concerned parishioner who felt it was his duty to inform me that it sounded like a “drum” when anyone walked across the balcony. As if I hadn’t noticed.
Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Jackson and I trekked across the sanctuary and met up with Seth in the hallway. After dropping the kids off, Seth and I were faced with a dilemma. Stay in the hallway until church was over to avoid having to come all the way back if the boys decided they didn’t like it, go back up the stairs the way Seth had come in order to avoid another concerned parishioner, or go back the way I had come and face a possible “teaching your children to be quiet” talk from said parishioner. We chose to stand in the hallway and wait out the sermon. Afterwards, said parishioner apologized as we were trying to leave, but it was still mortifying to say the least. Needless to say, we didn’t go back.