Future Hair Stylist

It seems there is a common thread this week in our life, and it has to do with hair.

Just as Molly finally has hair long enough for a spriggy piggy, Addison decided her own hair was getting too long, and snuck away to the loft with a pair of scissors to remedy the situation.  THANKFULLY Claire caught her and quickly alerted the parents (as she refers to us).

At first I thought Claire may have been exaggerating, because she's known to do that on occasion, but unforuately this time she was being completely honest.  We found Addison with a pair of scissors and a good size pile of hair laying next to her in the loft.

The guilty party:

Note on her right side that it's cut almost all the way up to her hair line.

And cut that high almost all the way back to her ear....yikes.

She did cut some up to the bottom of her ear on this side, but it wasn't as noticeable.

Now, although I like to pretend I'm a hair expert, because I'm capable of trimming my kids hair in a straight line across the bottom, I knew this was a challenge beyond my ability.

So off we went to the salon.

The ladies were super sweet and nice to Addison.  All the stylists came over to see the "cute little 3 year old who cut her own hair." 

After a lot of thinking and getting second opinions, it was decided the only thing we could really do was cut all the hair the same length as she had cut on her left side (the less noticeable side) and turn the REALLY short pieces on her right side into bangs and hope that her curls helped blend the short parts that were just too far back to be considered bangs.

The result:

I think it turned out pretty cute.  Especially with what she gave them to work with.

And while I'm sad that we had to cut off so much of her beautiful curly hair, I'm glad they made it look good.

Once the camera was out, she turned into a giant ham and was being goofy.  

Gosh, I love this girl.

 

What was I thinking??

Even though she sure keeps things hopping, I think we'll keep her.

Spriggy Piggy

Molly has enough hair that I was able to squeak out a little spriggy piggy tail on the top of her head.

I won't lie, I used to kind of think doing these little piggy tails on the top of babies heads was a bit ridiculous.

But I think it was just the jealousy talking, because I have had such bald babies that piggy tails were never in the cards for me.

But Molly, oh sweet Molly, she was born with a sweet mohawk (or "mo-hog" as Claire calls it) and has always had long bits of hair towards the back of her head.  So on a whim, I tried to tame the hawk.

And personally, I think it's pretty dang cute!

I took about a million pictures of her today, so enjoy the photo presentation of my baby.  Who happens to look way too grown up in these.  And who also happens to be the cutest baby on the face of the planet - in my humble opinion.

(Please excuse the toothbrush...it was her toy of choice this morning and she was not about to let it go.)

Love her laugh!

Addison got in on the pictures too.

And then back to Molly

She's "talking" (a.k.a. yelling at the top of her lungs)

Made up memory: A Trip To Remember

L-R: Grandma Ridges, Ben, Me, Emily, Aspen and Mom

In the fall of 1994 we set off on a fun little camping trip with my Grandma Ridges.  (If you look in the picture above, you can see how loving Ben always was to Grandma)

Let's just say we went to...Goblin Valley...because I have no clue where we really were.

We loaded up our nice hand-me-down Suburban with our sweet CJ-7 Jeep in tow, and off we went.

As with all of our camping trips, this one did not go off without a hitch.  In the middle of nowhere, our Suburban decided it no longer wanted to go camping and blew up (or something broke down...I can't really be sure).

We were stranded.

Thankfully, we happened to be stranded at a great camping location, and so we unloaded and set up camp.  Dad took the Jeep into town (somewhere very far away) for parts he needed to repair the Suburban.  But because of past experience, we knew he'd handle it and so we wasted no time and got right to exploring.

Me, Aspen, Ben and Emily

  As we were hiking around, I somehow managed to smash my finger pretty good.  Ben (and Aspen too...but these stories are mostly about Ben, sorry Aspen) was worried that it might have been broken, and - unlike how he usually treated me - was trying to help me down from our hike to get back to camp for some first-aid from mom and Grandma (I'm sure Grandma was completely bummed that she couldn't go on our hike with us.  She always wanted to be part of the action).

Ben asked me if I could move my finger.  Through tears, I squeaked out a "No."

Emily - being a sweet younger sister - walked over to me, grabbed my finger and shook it saying, "Yes you can, see?!"

Ben (and Aspen) was horrified...but then just about fell over laughing.

Obviously my finger would survive, because Emily's violent shake hadn't ripped it off.

Dad returned from getting parts, fixed the Suburban and it was then time to explore some more.  We drove up a cool rock formation, and dad wanted to take a good photo opportunity.  Having heard somewhere that pictures are better with people in them (and the fact that there are about 15,000 pictures of the Jeep by itself) he decided he better get someone in there.

Looking around, he found the closest two victims.  Me and Ben (and our dog Gabby).  So we hopped in the picture to document a great trip.

I'm rockin' that outfit!

And honestly, even though I'm sure me and Ben fought and bickered much of the time, I can't remember any of it.  I just remember that Ben was awesome, and some day I wanted to be just like him. 

Fearless, adventurous...and secretly super nice.

Promise Me...

In the last couple years of his life, Ben became an even softer, kinder man.  He was always sweet and kind, but he became more vocal about it.  

Ben was my biggest fan at times.  And I really missed having my cheerleader in my corner this weekend. 

Whenever I would go visit Ben, he always wanted to know how me and Marty were doing.  He was always sure to tell me how proud he was of me, and how he thought I was doing such a good job with life (he was more specific...but I don't want to go into it on here).  He always pointed out that Marty and I have overcome some difficult things and that he is so proud of the hard work we have put in to be where we are now.  

Ben would also caution me, and made me promise him that I would take things slow in life.  Not to rush into things just because I was feeling antsy.  He wanted to make sure that we would not repeat any past mistakes.  

I so badly wanted to call or text him on Saturday to tell him that we moved another step closer to reaching our goals.  I knew he would be so excited for us and would be as enthusiastic as I was feeling.

I know he is still excited for me, and probably knows what's going on better than I do in my own life now.  But I just wanted to see his face, his little smirk and hear him say "I'm really proud of you."

I miss him.

I thought it would get easier as the days went on, but as of now it seems to get harder each day.

My sister, Aspen, spoke at Ben's funeral.  She read off these promises Ben wanted her to make.  We are all trying to adopt them into our lives.

-Promise me you'll spend time as a family with your children.

-Promise me you'll not let excuses get in the way of the people in your life.

-Promise me you'll take tons of pictures of your kids.

-Promise me you'll be a patient and kind mother and wife.

-Promise me you'll continue to love and include Sara.

-Promise me you'll be slow to be offended or frustrated by family members.  Allow them to feel how they want to feel.  Understand that in the coming weeks they may say things in sadness or anger that they normally wouldn't.  Forgive them for it and be patient.

-Promise me that you will never forget that you are living the dream.  Don't take for granted the fact that you have good health, that you have beautiful and healthy children and that you have a long future ahead of you.  Make good use of it.

I hope I continue to make Ben proud as he watches me from above.