A little Truman like insanity

In the movie The Truman Show, Jim Carey breaks down. . .frustrated at his so called real life. There is a funny line in which he asks his wife whether or not she will "slice or dice" him. I found myself in a somewhat similar predicament Friday. It was the 2nd time that week that Fernando had been on call which translates directly into over 24 hours of on call mom moments/responsibility with limited to no adult interaction or intercession. The kids were less then perfect and I was losing it quickly. Finally bedtime came and I sent the kids to get pjs on while I filtered through the mail. Mia's squeals pulled me from my mundane bliss only to bring me to my snapping point. Tiago with new essence of lilac super concentrated body wash was making puddles all over the family room upstairs. This wasn't the first attempt to decorate with soap. A few days earlier, Tiago had tried to blob up his comforter to no avail. Why is it that his first "successful" venture occurred on a carpeted highly traffic area? After a very unsightly, but unsatisfying yell-a-thon and hours of angry wet vaccing, I still had some aggression to release. So I did the most illogical cause/effect thing I could think of--whack off my hair. I was slightly tempted to shave it off in some odd sort of teenage expression of anger, but luckily I wasn't that dumb. Instead I did the safest cut job known to man. Pulling my hair into a pony tail, I grabbed my dull $1 wonderless scissors and gnawed my hair away. I once saw a stylist do this on tv to some lady with hair down to her toush in one of those extreme make overs and it looked remarkably good. My hair job wasn't so fantastic, but did relieve some aggression and brought a new sentiment of dang you ugly sort of feel. By the time Fernando was post call I found myself an appointment at a near by Paul Mitchell School (yeah I don't pay a lot for my hair cause it grows too fast). 5 hours later*. . .










*Knowing that it was a training salon, I knew it would take a little longer than normal, but 5 hours? Let's just say I am glad I came home to the kids dressed up as Woody's round-up with smiles instead of Lord of the Flies. Post call doesn't make anyone up for babysitting or being awake for that matter.