Just (do it to yourself)

Today I decided after weeks of debating to cut Phoenix’s hair.

Summer was off sick from school. Jacob went foraging at Ralph’s for the items on a list that I had handed him. Popcorn, sweeties, cheese. All the things I needed for a day stuck in the apartment with three kids. As it hit mid-afternoon everyone was getting a little tired. The paper volcano Summer and I had been making for science week was not entertaining anymore.

So this was it, the moment I had been waiting for. I powered up the Wii, clicked on youtube and picked a film that we had not watched before.

I don’t know why, but with every task I need to do, my brain doesn’t seem to realise up until launch moment that I do not have the correct tools to do the job. Yesterday I was stood on a chair with a curtain pole, screws and a spirit level before it clicked that I don’t have my electric screwdriver. It’s in the frickin shipping container.

Today was no different. Phoenix was in position, which with our lack of, well… anything, meant him sitting on the kids table and I just ran around him like the hunchback of notre dame. I had scissors at the ready but no comb. I have a comb. I’ve always had a comb…oh, no comb…with a little quick thinking I remembered that deep within a toiletries bag was a nit comb. So this became my hair cutting comb (not recommended).

As those first few strands fell to the floor I start singing Radiohead’s Just (do it to yourself) in my head. I realised why I shouldn’t cut my kids’ hair. A realisation I have every time but being a thrifty Scot it goes against my instinct to spend cash on kids haircuts. Phoenix’s head was swinging around everywhere, picture the exorcist scene but with me trying to clamp his head in place. The scissors were cutting up anything they could find, I was basically gouging out hollows in his hair which meant it was getting shorter and shorter.

All the while Silver was scraping chairs across the floor to sit next to me, declaring it was her turn. I managed to finish the hair cut with only one huge tantrum from Phoenix. He walked away half cut (haha). Telling me that he was itchy and wanted a bath. “NOW”. I coaxed him back onto the table and he underwent the last of the ‘do’ with promise of sweeties and a bath overflowing with bubbles.

The film ended before the haircut.

We kept our eyes locked on each other as I fumbled with the wii controller. Me wondering if he was going to stay sitting on his arse. Him wondering if he could make a run for it. I won! Go me!

So with a new program on I finish up. Rather happy with the result as long as I don’t turn the light up too high… bloody brilliant.

After the bath it still looked pretty good.

Wonder what Jacob will say when he gets in….

Advertisements

Sunday, Sunday.

Yesterday was one of those challenging days, the kind where you think you have things under control but actually…nope. All manner of shit is waiting. We’ve had a long day from getting up oh so early. Saying goodbye to Jacob who is away to London for a few days. Then going to the neighbour’s house who have three kids the same age. Also shopping and Laundry. Pretty much a normal Sunday. I left the kids in the living room while I made a start cooking dinner. The normal shouting started, Phoenix was annoying Summer, Phoenix was annoying Silver, Silver was sitting too near Phoenix, yadda yadda yadda. I would walk through every so often to calm the whatever situation was going on. I then found Phoenix with a pair of kids scissors, cutting Silvers hair. she was quite happily sitting there, shouting ‘hair, hair’.

As I type this, I have just pulled another small clump of hair from the sofa. I wonder if she would have been bald if I had left them any longer. I think I may have to hide the scissors from now on. Actually how do children scissors cut hair? Surely this should be one of the requirements for kids scissors – ‘does not cut hair’. I mean, they can hardly cut paper but hair, totally easy!

We moved onto the normal bedtime routine once we finished dinner. The kids have a special routine reserved for me. Jacob gets away scot free, reads a book, kisses them, then walks out the room. I however get the full pantomime. Jumping up and down, screaming, clothes being pulled off, nappies being thrown around. All the while I’m ready to snap, blood is boiling, veins pumping. What will be my next move? I’ve already taken away two of the three bedtime books and made some threats about taking sleepy toys away. I actually don’t have a next move, I’m not going to get them up to put them on the naughty step. These kids have totally trumped me. Oh what would super-nanny do? Why didn’t I pay more attention to those programs?

What I wouldn’t give to be my husband right now. An eleven hour flight with no one climbing on my head, screaming in my ears, or pulling my hair. You wait for so long to hear that magic word – “mummy”. But then they get to 3 and you wish they had only learned to say “daddy”. Over and over and over.

‘Mummy, can you open this box?’

‘Mummy, I’m thirsty’

‘Mummy, I want a snail as a pet’

‘Mummy, I’ve had a poo, and I’m finished’

‘Daddy…oh, I mean Mummy’