She Bangs...She Bangs...

Someone please remind me that I have curly hair before I decide to cut bangs again (I already know there will be a next time). I always cut my hair to commemorate a new chapter in my life. I was envisioning a hair unveiling akin to Lenny Kravitz after he decided to cut off his dreads. Instead, as I stare at my reflection in the mirror after a day of rain showers and humidity all I can say is, crap...and doo doo and an assortment of equally naughty words.
I was hoping that my thirties would allow me to settle into a confident beauty routine. It was a decade where I would figure out what my best features are, highlight them appropriately, hone in on my flaws and work with what I've got. Instead I point to the picture in the magazine with the girl sporting a thick main of straight, manageable hair and say "I want that". Shouldn't I have this figured out by now? Aren't hairdressers legally responsible for this type of ignorance? Really, it is not her fault. I told the hairdresser that I wanted to want to spend time on my hair. What the "h" does that mean? It's no wonder I walked out of the salon wondering what I had just committed to.
Note to self:
1. Three simple words...wash and go. Not wash and mousse and dry and flat iron and spray and go.
2. Curly hair is your reality. Unless you plan on moving to a desert, humidity is also your reality.
3. Next time the impulse strikes, buy nail polish. Wild and crazy nail polish in any color imaginable. Buy gems and fill-ins and any other product Sally Hanson offers. Just no bangs.
Ella, I hope to have most of this ironed out (flat ironed...get it?) by the time your memories become a part of your consciousness. Although a lot of fun can be had in the "hunt" for personal beauty.
Luckily hair grows and so does our understanding of our own goofy ways.

The Great Pumka

Excitement surrounded the carving of the "pumka" this evening. Ella paused only a second before enthusiastically diving into the "pumka" seeds and muck.

Silver Lining?

As we prepare for our close date I have become keenly aware of the dent our new mortgage will create in our pocketbooks. I must warn the general public that manicures, pedicures and eye brow waxes are now out of the budget. I am preparing to be completely encapsulated by cuticles and grow a mono-brow that would make Frida jealous. I'm picturing "Discovery Channel" like proportions. As we've gotten older and have had more disposable income we have been lucky to splurge on certain indulgences...to the point that they are no longer indulgences and simply a given. It may sound perverse and twisted, but I am looking forward to looking forward. Sushi take-out will once again be something special. A pedicure will mark a big occasion. Heating and electricity, something we can enjoy on the weekends...kidding! I hope.

The "F" Word

Two days ago, from the backseat came a gravely voice yelling out the granddaddy of all naughty words...repeatedly. I can assure you this type of language is not heard in our household. I know she was just playing around with consonants. Perhaps conjuring up some hybrid animals (a frog-duck). If she were saying words that rhymed with cram and spit, we will admittedly take more ownership. Note to self: Watch who she hangs out with...Maletich and Czerkies kids...I'm talking about you ; )

The Elegant Farmer

Last spring, while watching the Food Network, I watched in amazement as Bobby Flay got trounced in a bake off with a Wisconsin farmer. From this episode a dream was born. We made a weekend of purchasing the famous brown bag apple pie at the Elegant Farmer. Friends, Vickie and Greg, their children, Audrey and Jack were along for the ride. Hay rides, brisk fall temperatures and runny noses completed the picture.

Forest Avenue, Oak Park

It's official...well almost. The buyers (us) and sellers have all signed on the dotted lines. We plan on moving in mid-November, just prior to the holiday madness. We are incredibly excited to get off of the home buying/selling roller coaster. Hope we don't have to get tickets again for this ride any time soon! Three bedrooms, a three car garage, a great school and a quiet block. Room for a garden, an eat in kitchen and a basement. Can I get a whoop whoop?

Aliza and the Coach

Our buddy Aliza played her last soccer game of the 09 season this morning. She gave a performance that would make Beckham proud. What was even more fun to watch was her dad, our buddy Tony, the coach. He was a natural at coralling a field full of four year olds. His use of redirecting the daydreamers and motivating the sideliners was impressive.

Disconnected

It was as if my right arm was amputated today. I was without phone for 19 long hours. An entire work day with voice mails backing up and emails unread. What if Ella's daycare called? What if the offer on our house went through? What if I was finally selected to be on "What Not to Wear"? The screen was completely shattered but alerts for incoming text messages and the ringing continued. My phone was mocking me and I practically broke out in hives. I really could have done without the reality check on how reliant I am on my telephone. It was repaired this evening and harmony was restored. My name is Sarah, and I am an addict.

School Picture Day

Full Circle

So much of my adolescence and early adulthood was spent totally annoyed with my home-town. I'd refer to Glen Ellyn as boring, dull, unaffected, out of touch and unaware. The "city" was much more enlightened, sharp and energizing and Oak Park made the cut due to proximity. Now as we settle into a new routine in our old home-town a light has been shed on my thinking. Glen Ellyn was a fantastic place to grow up. Safe, friendly and peaceful are not all that bad now that I have a child. Eye contact, salutations and greetings are not overrated and are actually quite nice. Living in a bubble (as I so lovingly referred to it) had it's perks. Perks I am not so opposed to anymore. The bubble is only as insulating as you allow. The bubble is what helped fuel my idealism, guard me against apathy and cynicism, and encourage my belief that change is possible. This innocent naivete coupled with several years playing witness to the "real world" have really helped me settle into the social worker, the mom, the wife I am today. Glen Ellyn has given me the balance I needed to explore lives wrought with poverty, illness, abuse and loneliness. It's helped me realize what could be. All of this to say, we have not ruled out a Glen Ellyn address as we search for homes.

Rated PG for Graphic Content and Language

Ella and her potty had a chance to meet and get acquainted this evening. Three minutes in, she baptised her throne. Jerry and I were jumping around and high fiving like a bunch of buffoons...as if we were awarded a Nobel for greatness. Ella just sat and said "cheese" (she's grown very accustomed to the camera). Capturing Ella, her pride and her pot certainly demand a lot more artistic creativity than this beginning photographer can muster. To preserve her dignity and my social work license, I present you with Ella and her Dad, concentrating on the task at hand...a "G" rated version.

Ants in My Pants

It's so hard sitting still for pictures!