Vitafamiliae

So.  Five years, huh?

I’ve been saving this giveaway for months.  I did some promoting for 147million at Blissdom in February and I got to keep a few pairs of earrings.  I liked them so much, I wanted to share them with you.

These are cow bone earrings, made by women in Uganda.  The women are paid fairly for their work and it helps them support themselves and their families.  147million sells the earrings to raise money to help hungry and orphaned children.  I love my moo-cow earrings.  But let’s be real here.  These sweet tortoise shell earrings?  They would get lost in my tortoise shell mop hair.  Can you spy the earring in my hair?

I rest my case.  So, it’s bright colors for me.  See how fun they are?

My green earrings are HUGE and funky.

But I must warn you, do not go to the door wearing the big green earrings and a messy pony tail that is sideways from an afternoon nap.  The UPS man doesn’t expect to be greeted by Cyndi Lauper.

Anywho, these earrings are sure to be an “every day” item to add to your wardrobe.  They’d match almost anything.  And if they happen to match your hair, too, there’s always a pony tail…

Because I love you all SOOOOOO much, I’m also going to throw in a free bag of HopeSuds, your choice of scent.

I usually hate giveaways that require you to go out and DO something to win.  So, technically, I won’t.  Just leave a comment here and you’re entered to win.  However, in the interest of promoting good causes, I’m going to offer you some extra-credit options, if you choose.

• If you tweet or facebook about 147million and come back here and tell me in the comments, you can have another entry.
• If you tweet or facebook about HopeSuds and come back here and tell me in the comments, you can have two more entries.  (Shameless, aren’t I?)

Edited to add:  It would help me a lot if you would please leave separate entries for each of these extra-credit thingies.

Giveaway ends Friday night at midnight.  Y’all have fun!

Last Thursday, the kids all had super special fun playdates at other people’s houses.  I took advantage of an empty house and had a friend come over to help me give the place a good scrubbing.  (My first inclination was to run screaming around the house and then to eat all the chocolate.  But I pretty much eat all of the chocolate anyway.)

When the kids came home, I had about ten minutes to pull myself together and keep the kids from trashing the place before the doorbell rang.  We had an interview scheduled with a local county paper to talk about adoption and HopeSuds.  The kids were fairly cooperative, even when the photographer wanted posed pictures of everyone grating soap and looking cute.

You can go here to read the article.  And since I had enough sense to pull my hair back, many of you will be seeing my profile for the first time since 2006.

Now here’s the funny part:  The reporter and photographer left and my kitchen was covered in soap particles.  So basically, it was like the whole Cleaning Binge never happened.  I rounded a corner and found Ellen in the kitchen, cheerfully grating soap all by herself.  She told me proudly, “I gway-ding soap so we can bwing home our bay-bee from Oo-gandah!”

And everybody said Awwwwwwww.  Of course, as soon as no one was looking, she turned up the charm to the 4th power.  You can see some video footage on the HopeSuds Facebook fan page.

One more link for those of you who purchased or want to purchase the Sseko sandals I told you about.  My incredibly talented sister Rebekah figured out a new way to tie her Ssekos (no ankle straps!  just slip them on!) and it’s up on the Sseko Designs YouTube page.

I wisely kept my hair out of the footage.

I’m all about public service, people.

A few weeks ago, we went out with Uncle Stik and Aunt Katie to a Japanese restaurant to celebrate all the recent birthdays.  Our children were naturally suspicious.

Even the older kids felt a bit intimidated by all the clanging and banging.  Or maybe it was the disco ball that went off every now and then.

And then the chef set the grill on fire and, well, I’m just glad no one screamed.

I’m not sure Ellen could have clamped her hands down on her ears any harder.  Although why she was so concerned about protecting her ears from the fire is beyond me.  I was more concerned for my own head of hair, which is a fire hazard unto itself.

Willa remained nonplussed by the whole affair.  Fascinated, but relatively unconcerned.

And, eventually, even Ellen loosened up a bit.  Not enough that she removed her hands from her head, but still…

Despite being terrified of their food preparation, the kids loved dinner and seemed to enjoy the experience.

And since it was probably the quietest our children have ever been during mealtime, I vote we go every week!

I attended the visitation for a young mother who was killed last week.  Behind the family they had a slideshow running with pictures.  There were so many pictures of her with the children she has left behind.  Heart-breaking.  And, because I selfishly personalize everything, I got to thinking about how many pictures I have of me with my children.

Not as many as I’d like.

I tend not to take pictures with me in them.  Partly because I get overshadowed by my hair.

Partly because I’d like to erase about 15 pounds off my body and my memory by taking no pictures until I am miraculously back into my pre-baby jeans.

And then there’s that whole “somebody has to stay out of the picture in order to operate the camera” issue.

But in the face of tragedy and with the reality that we are all but a breath hanging over me, I have vowed to turn the camera around and take more pictures.  I want to capture moments of our kids with US.  Their parents.

Even if I’m not wearing any make-up.

Even if my hair is in another zip code.

Even if blurriness and hilarity ensues.

Even if we all look ridiculous in the end.

Because every second is precious.  And so is every snapshot.

We got our first few Christmas cards in the mail today.  Very punctual of you all!  The chatter on twitter and in the blogosphere seems to be all about getting pictures made, finding the right place to order cards, hands cramping with all the addressing…  I love getting cards.  I love looking at the faces and seeing how they’ve changed and how they’ve stayed the same.  I love looking at the new family additions (We’re not the only ones who procreate, apparently).

A long time ago, we gave up on such a thing as a “holiday picture” or a Christmas letter.  I used to send out Christmas emails, but even that has fallen by the wayside in recent years.  This here blog o’ ours keeps everybody about as up to date as they can stand.  Any more information and we would cross the line of what’s appropriate, don’t you think?

Still, if I did send out a Christmas letter this year, this would be the picture I would send with it.

It’s messy, assymetrical, un-posed, and my hair is at the forefront.  Just like most moments in our life.  But the best part is the sheer, unadulterated joy on our faces.  We’re blessed to have each other.  We’re loving this ride, even though it’s crazy.  And we’re on this adventure together.

Plus, we’re obviously very good ticklers.

Can’t wait to show you our faces next year.  And keep praying with us for that new little face we hope to bring home…

As always, photo credit goes to my genius sister, Abbi.

I had over 20 pictures on my iPhone when I plugged it in to sync tonight.  It’s amazing to me the vast array of random that gets photographed and stored over a couple of days.  Like this:

Or this:

Here’s a cornucopia of head shots of people you don’t know from the Day Of The Great Hair Marathon:

That’s Aubrey’s hair.  She went from “a bit of wave” to “wavy glam” in a matter of minutes.  And then there’s my sister, who will hate me for putting this picture up, but aren’t her curls fantastic?

And here’s my lovely step-mom taking her “after” shot.

The very next picture on the “roll?”  This one:

Rather abrupt, isn’t it?

Then I tried to take you all an “after” shot of my own hair, but had trouble grasping that I was supposed to look at myself in the mirror, not the camera.  My genius knows no bounds.

When Andrew took me out for my birthday, I requested “a lot” of butter for my baked potato.  Our waiter couldn’t remember to bring me water, but the guy delivered on that butter.

And I refuse to tell you how much of that I used.  But I bet you can guess.

I found Ellen a sweet pair of boots at the consignment sale.  Here she is modeling them for us, because nothing says “break out your faux fur” like a 90 degree day in August.

Finally, Sam and I had to go pick out some new glasses today.  I’ll save the pics of Sam for when he gets his new specs in, but here was my attempt to show Andrew what my new glasses will look like.

They’re red, y’all.

I figured now that I’m 30, I should go for a more “subtle” look.

I laughed out loud at your kind comments about my hair on yesterday’s post.  What you don’t know is that last week my hair and I were in the midst of a crisis that we only recovered from in time to take birthday pictures.

Everybody wave to my male readership as their eyes roll back in their heads and they turn tail and run.  *waving*

My hair wasn’t always this curly.  This is a profound hair mystery.  It has gotten curlier with every child I’ve borne, which means to have hair like mine, you people had better start procreating.

Oh, I kid.

At any rate, a few years ago, someone handed me the book “Curly Girl.” I began following the tenets of said book and I got even curlier.  This was great, except that the book proposes that curly girls should never use shampoo as it dries out and frizzes their precious follicles.  And I felt a bit weird admitting this to people.  But it worked, so I scrubbed my scalp vigorously and then used conditioner.

The frizz was still unkind to me, so I began what I refer to as “my period of experimentation.”

I tried no shampoo.  I tried baking soda and vinegar (with a thorough rinse in between to avoid The Fizz).  I tried honey and vinegar.  I even got desperate enough to try “ethnic” products.  I knew I needed a good cut but everyone I went to stuck my head in the bowl, shampooed the life out of my hair, and then clucked and sighed over my head while I watched my mop-top get bigger and frizzier before my eyes.

It wasn’t very encouraging.

A few weeks back, I had a stylist stop me and ask if she could cut and style my hair for free in exchange for some before and after photos.  She’s a member of a website called NaturallyCurly.com.  I had used the website before to hunt for a stylist, but my results had been mixed.  Her hair was lovely and wavy, though, so I agreed.  I also hauled along my family and friends for support.  What followed was a six hour marathon at the hair salon.  (There was a lot of hair between all of my sisters and myself.)

My haircut alone took an hour.  But I knew she was on the right track.  She cut my hair while it was dry.  She cut each individual curl, making sure she cut at the right portion (the C) of the curl.  She did something in the back I have yet to understand, but I believe it to be revolutionary.  And then she gave me a new regimen that has drastically improved the health of my curls.

First, she wet my hair.  Then, she added conditioner to my hair.  Next, she filled her palm with conditioner and scrubbed it into my scalp with her fingertips.  The conditioner has enough cleanser in it to get my hair clean without drying it out.  For most people, this would be enough.  My high-maintenance hair requires another dose of conditioner which I leave in.

When I’m done with the scrubbing, I hang my head upside down, still dripping wet, and comb it with a wide-toothed comb.  Then I take the towel and blot my hair dry.  No scrunching, just lots of hard pressing toward my head.  Once I’ve gotten some of the moisture out, I blot on some gel or mousse or whatever the product of choice is (don’t pull or scrunch, just blot).  Then I take big chunks of hair and wind them around my finger.  This helps the curls get together and not be so independent and frizzy.  The bigger the curl, the healthier it is.

You can use a diffuser, unless you’ve got crazy coarse, thick hair like mine, in which case, DO NOT DO IT.  Heat of any kind is not welcome on something the consistency of a Brillo pad.  Although, I’ve gotta tell you, the Ol’ Broomstraw is feeling much more soft and touchable lately.  I believe my stylist friend is on to something…

My sisters, who have long beautiful hair, only shampoo their hair once or twice a week and it seemed to be working for them, so if you don’t wash your hair that often and you are happy with your curl, then keep using the shampoo.  Don’t mess with what works.  But you’ll get even BETTER curl if you follow the instructions for styling that I gave you.  (I speak like an expert, but I’m just regurgitating what The Curl Guru told us.)  If you’re NOT happy with your curls, then maybe you should give up the ‘poo and just wash your hair with conditioner.  If you’re worried about looking oily, you don’t have to leave in that second batch of conditioner like I do.  Just trust me on the styling thing, though.  The transformation in my loved ones’ curls that day was nothing short of amazing.

Now, the reason you didn’t hear me shouting this from the rooftops early last week is that my hair is, you may have noticed, somewhat of a Diva.  (It has its own blog category, for heavens sake.)  It likes to be in pictures, it changes on a whim, and it doesn’t like to be touched.  I suffer from what is called “post-salon follicular shock syndrome.”  (Well, that’s what I call it anyway.)  In other words, after a trip to even a GREAT stylist, I go around for a week looking something like this:

Clearly, I have NOT been in the mood to discuss my hair.  It is still a work in progress, but since some of you were nice enough to ask (and, man, don’t you regret that?), I thought I’d share what I’ve learned.  Besides, I’m pretty sure Ellen is going to end up with my Mystery Hair and I may be too addled to remember to tell her how to fix it some day.  Now it is recorded for all Internetual Posterity.

My kids will be SO proud.

Now, can anybody redeem this blog from the depth of self-involvement to which it has sunk?  Leave me your best hair tip in the comments and we’ll find out.

I’m having one of those days where I’d like to scream at everyone “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” and stomp off to my room, but I’m trying to keep things positive in my head.  I’m looking on the bright side.  Here’s what I love about today:

• I love that even though we’ve lived here for 2 years, Sam still calls our next door neighbor “Cake” instead of “Kate.”
• I love that Ellen has started using Sam’s phrase “pay-bee.”  I will do anything she asks just to hear her say “pay-beeeee…”
• I found a new hairstyle for Ellen today on this site and it kept me from going all different ways of insane when she said “Why?” eight hundred eleventy-thousand times at me in one morning.
• Willa blew a raspberry so hard she over-spat and then got all choked up.  Then she got mad at me for laughing and slammed her hand on her tray.  I know this won’t be cute next month, but just say “she over-spat” in your head a few times and I guarantee you’ll giggle.
• My husband brought me calla lilies and hydrangeas to gaze at.  The color of the blues and the whites intermingling over the kitchen counter is all that got dinner on the table tonight.
• Adam learned how to catch a ball today.  And he wanted ME to watch.
• I loaded a new car seat into the van, which means I had to un-install three car seats, reinstall two we already had, and then put the new one in.  I know I don’t give Andrew any kind of medal when he does those sort of things, but I felt like I deserved  fanfare and a trip to Disney World.  Or at least a parade…
• Willa pressed her cheek up against mine before bed and rested there.  It was soft and smelled like sweet potatoes.
• Ian was sulky so I showed him that Mommy’s hair is perfect for a good head-banging session, complete with my own growly version of “Bad to the Bone” (which I don’t really know the words to so I just mostly said “duh-dunna-duh-dunh, da-duh, da-duh”).  He giggled and I tucked that sound into my pocket for keeps.

So what’s in your pocket?  Got any sunshine to share?

For more happy thoughts, go here.

Today was the day to celebrate Ellen’s birthday.

We noshed on her favorite meal of wheel-shaped spaghetti and green beans.

Then it was time to reveal the Pig Cake. Ellen had been peering at it all morning yelling, “Pigg-gee Cayke! Pigg-gee Cayke!”

She hasn’t learned to really hop yet, but she thinks she has, so she goes into a dramatic squat and pops up like she’s jumping for joy. She did that a lot today.

Here’s the standard shot of me with my masterpiece, sans hair.

And here’s my hair delivering the pig to Ellen.

She knew what to do with those candles this year.

And she especially knew what to do with the cake.

Miss R, the baby-sitter extraordinaire, arrived with gifts for all. Ellen loved her fuzzy new shoes and her new baby.

Grano and Pappo made the trek to spend the day with us. We had such a nice visit and they got to meet Willa for the first time.

Aunt Katie and Uncle Stik arrived later to round out the party.

And by the time it all ended, we had a very pooped out party-er on our hands. She asked to go to bed at five, but we held her off until six or so. “Niye-Niye,” sweet girl!

How do ya like THAT title?

Willa has made the first important decision of her young life. She’s going to be a two finger sucker. And the left hand has the fingers of choice. I know you were all waiting with bated breath for that info. I was. I also weighed Willa the other night and she’s just an ounce or two away from doubling her birth weight. See?

Speaking of birth weight, I did have a contest here sometime in NOVEMBER OF 2008, now didn’t I? Since you were all so terribly wrong about the Baby Pool, I almost forgot to notify you of the winner. No one came close on Willa’s due date, probably because I threatened you with bodily harm if you guessed past November 21. So since little Miss Late To Her Own Party was nine days overdue, I decided the winner would be whoever came closest to her actual weight and length.

Which made it all extremely complicated. Because did I mention how terribly wrong y’all were? I actually had to call in the math minor in the family (not me) to help come up with the winner. We (not me) turned the guesses into percentages and whoever had the lowest percentage of error won. Which means Leighton is the winner. And I suppose that’s fitting, since he also wanted to guess that she’d be two weeks late but “thought better of it.”

Big S., you’ll be happy to know your equation was almost right. You were off by 7.6% and Leighton was off by 7.3%. So basically, you’re a genius.

And, finally, I killed half an hour going through all the photos on the Flickr site for Blissdom ‘09. I was just sure there would be a shot of my hair, like there always is. Then I was going to show it to you all and we could have a good laugh about my hair going to a blogging conference. There was one blurry shot of my hair, but Secret Agent Mama actually managed to capture my face. I give you proof that me, my baby (under the nursing cover), and my water bottle all went to Blissdom.

Which reminds me, of all the baby gear I bought for Willa, that nursing cover is my single most favorite. And my most used. I used a gift certificate I won to buy it here. But they’re super easy to make for those of you who aren’t sewing challenged like me. It’s basically just pretty fabric with some boning at the top so you can see your baby but no one else can. It goes on and off easy and adjusts with one hand. Or with teeth, which is what I end up using.

And now I think that really is all. Congrats, Leighton! Your prize is on its way to your inbox!