A run down of some happenings during those days:
- Who knew a lost jacket could cause me so much stress? Kacy left her jacket on the bus Friday. This jacket not only represents warmth, but for me personally, it represents driving to Bakersfield, getting a baby-sitter, driving to THE MALL (eww), and spending money. So, I call the head bus guy and leave a message for him, then I call the secretary and leave a message for her: "Hi, this is Karrie Bunting. Kacy left her jacket on Mike's bus. It's a brown Carhartt, size 8. Her last name is on the tag. If you see it, will you please make sure she gets it back? Thanks." Turns out not to be a size 8, because that day, Kacy accidentally wore Will's jacket to school. The reason she left it on the bus was because her back pack was empty. If I've told her once, I've told her a hundred times, "Your back pack is to keep your hands free. Put everything in your backpack." I also told her that if she didn't get Will's jacket back, he would inherit hers and she'd have to freeze. (I was mad.) I got the jacket back today from Mike, (the bus driver) first thing this morning. Kacy was relieved, I was relieved, and Kacy came home with both her wind breaker and sweatshirt IN HER BACK PACK!
- Kacy wants to be a teenager. "Mom, how many more years until I'm a teenager?" "Can I wear make-up when I'm a teenager?" "When do I get to go to high school?" Holy cow- that girl gave me my first grey hair when I was pregnant with her. How many does she think I need?
- Kacy also has hair problems. She wants smooth straight hair with bangs. So she cut her some. It's not too terrible, and can be fixed easily. But she got in trouble for that, too.
- Kacy gets some her "issues" with her hair from me. I don't complain about my hair to her, and I never cut my hair in front of her. And, I use to cut my own bangs ALL THE TIME, especially right before family pictures, or a wedding in which I was the flower girl. But I did that in my three and four year old life- NEVER in kindergarten or past. Until now...
- I have given myself my last two haircuts. They haven't been too shabby. But it could be better. And I bought a flatiron to give me more choices in styling my hair. But I quit. It makes me sad that Kacy covets straight hair "I wish I had hair like _______(insert someone with straight hair and bangs)." I gave myself bangs one night this week when my hair was straight, and it was kind of cute! I had a long, thick pony tail, and a straight, not to thin-not too thick, eyebrow length of fringe in the front. It was cute. It made Jessie cry. She didn't know who I was. Okay, it really freaked her out actually. It took a lot of talking and smiling at her to get her over it. But then Kacy started her "Oh, Mom! It's so beautiful! Can I have hair like that?" (I didn't hate my hair until I was at least in sixth grade... she's in Kindergarten.) Anyway, my bangs were cute for ONE NIGHT. After that, they wouldn't lay right, and when I straightened them again, they really made my hair look like hair that wasn't supposed to be straight. Like it seemed stiff or something. So, now I am stuck with these short hairs in the front. Sunday I had a bad hair day, but I figured it out, and it involves a little hair wax (like the paste) and three bobby pins.
- Play practice: I sang in front of people, into a microphone. And the only reason I could do it was because I knew all the other ladies (I'm still a girl! No, really!) wouldn't laugh at me or talk smack behind my back. Most of us are in the same boat- we are terribly uncomfortable singing outside of our cars. My biggest fear is sounding like I think I can sing. You know those American Idol tryouts? They always show the people who don't make it, and those people really think they can sing. When lots of them really can't. I don't want to be that person. But I am trying hard, because I'm type-A, straight-A, going to do it right kind of person. I was also voted "Most Likely to Survive in the Wilderness" my senior year of high school. I can see that now. Anyhow, I somehow need to get into "character" for this play. I found a highly undesirable trait about my self: when I get really nervous, I tend to be a dork. And I can't sit still. And I want to make everything funny. And when you are practicing for a spiritual play, the two don't mix well. So I get fidgety trying not to look and sound flippant. But it is oh-so-hard when the narrator is describing my character, and the last line of it says something about "she has an elegance all her own" and I nearly snort at the oddity of me trying to be elegant. Snorting! Into the microphone! I'm gonna have to work on this.
- Yesterday and today, Ed keeps coming up to me and saying "Hey, Mom! I found a BIG ONE for ya!" Yet, he has nothing. It makes me nervous.