“Mommy, Don’t Touch My Fauxhawk!”

So I finally figured out Hudson’s hair.  I kept trying to cut it so I could have the style I was looking for.  Then I realized that it wasn’t in the haircut, but how I do his hair.  Hudson now gets his hair done every morning.  What fun for me.  I openly admit I’m not very nice about it though.
Our conversations in the morning go something like this:

Me:  Can I do your hair?

Hudson:  No, does my hair look like a Q-Tip?

Me:  Yes it does, you can either let me do you hair or I guess I will have to cut it ALL off!

Hudson:  But I like my Q-Tip hair.  Do you have Q-Tip hair?

Me:  Sometimes, people aren’t supposed to go out in public with Q-tip hair.

Hudson:  What’s public?

Me:  Out where everyone can see you.

Hudson:  Oh, okay, I want a Fauxhawk then.

With dryer, spray, mousse and comb in hand I go at it.  He always has the choice of a “fauxhawk” or “surfer hair.”  I used to actually let him have the fauxhawk per his request, but now that his hair is so long I do the fauxhawk, show him his reflection in the mirror and then pat his head as he walks out my bedroom door.  Somedays he catches me and accuses, “Mommy, don’t touch my fauxhawk, you will squish it down.’”  Then I have to go through the whole routine again.

Every once in awhile, he decides he wants to do his own hair, and apparently he has watched often enough, because he can get his hair into a good fauxhawk on his own.  Don’t worry, I’m not pushing him the way of cosmotology school.

Water Babies

Here we are in a state where many activites involve water and just look.  And yes, the pool is heated.  Those looks have nothing to do with the temperature.

Hudson is good to go as long as you let him stay on the steps. He isn’t much for the middle of the pool.

Kumbaya

Hudson’s obviously not old enough yet to go to scout camp, but doing this little craft with him made me ponder on his future experiences.  Would Hudson be anything like the little smiling foam boy on the river?  If he was smiling like that, it would probably be because he has already pushed everyone else out of the canoe(Truly, he is a great kid, but ALL boy).  Thank goodness I will never have to go to scout camp.  I wish the best to his future leaders and offer them my thanks and appreciation in advance.

Elbow, Elbow, Wrist, Wrist…

I’ve decided that Annie thinks she is Miss America or the Ward Greeter for the world. Riding the Gondolas (reminds me of a ski lift) at the Zoo had Annie waving and greeting every Gondola that passed by. Of course all the people in the other Gondolas waved and greeted her back with smiles. Pagentry does run in the family so who knows. I’m definately not pushing her that direction of my own accord. I don’t have much patience for bubble-headed beauties…they remind me too much of those hollow chocolate Easter bunnies. No honey of mine is going to be any sort of bunny, chocolate or not!!

Who Says Persistance Doesn’t Pay Off?

After four failed attempts of swiping my make-up, Annie was successful on attempt number five.  I caught her in the middle of applying eyeliner while hiding between the ottoman and the couch.  Nice, eh?  She may do better as a horror movie make-up artist than a beautician.  I took her into the bathroom to show her what she looked like and she snuggled up to me looking like she was going to cry.  I think she was embarassed by what she looked like.  Is that really possible at this age?  Maybe she was just scared of the kid looking back at her.  At this point I decided she was only trying to make herself pretty so I wiped everything off showed her the reflection again and voila, she was good to go.  I hope the sentiments are the same when she hits the teen years…less is more!

She watches everything Will and I do in the morning and mimics.  She always wants to be sprayed with perfume and walk around in heels a purse and a scarf(That would be mimicing me, not Will).  I know I need to get this poor girl some dress-up clothes of her own.