How much Are YOU Worth?

  So, I was doling out allowance money for the first time today. - sidebar: feeling somewhat guilty and somewhat lucky that my little slaves haven't been paid before now, but the natives are restless. They are just short of picketing in front of the house, or worse yet, the bathroom. What's a girl to do? I don't want to lose their services to some house up the street. Also, we just had a budgeting lesson with them and I could see their eyes start to glaze over as I was talking. I knew at that point they were hearing "blah, blah, blah, money, blah, blah, blah". As soon as I uttered the word 'allowance' their little faces lit up. There was a period with an uncontrollable amount of jumping , chattering and girlish giggles. I had them at hello - or 'your money', as it were.

  Hmm, where was I? Oh yes, the boys first allowance. Soooo, Grey took his fist full of cold hard cash and fiendishly cried, "All this and the money from Riley for being her friend! I'm rich!" (insert sinister laughter here). Um, 'rrreeeecccchhh' (that's the sound of the needle screeching across the record as the whole room - or just me, in this case - turns to look at Grey). "Sorry, what?" I say. "Oh, yeah, Riley gave me ten cents to be her friend," he answers, like it's completely normal for other children to pay him for his friendship.

Me - "You're charging kids to be friends with you?"
Mr. Innocent -  "She wanted to give me money, Mom." (Yeah, 'duh, Mom')
Me - "You were already her friend anyway, weren't you?"
M. I. - "Yeah."
Me - " Did you tell her she had to pay you to be your friend?"
M.I. - "Not really."
Me - "Not really?  What does that mean?"
M. I. - "Just not really."

 I still don't get it. How exactly did that conversation go? "I'll let you swing next to me for fifty cents. You don't have fifty? How much do you have? Ten? Okay , ten'll buy you a walk back in from recess - but no talking." Does she think she got her money's worth? Does he feel cheap? One way or another I told him he has to give the sweet little girl (who is as cute as they come, by the way - Grey should be paying her!) her money back. I mean, kudos for getting a little money for nothing, but it feels a bit like he's pimping himself out. Either that, or he's a natural-born entrepreneur.

Sweet nothings

So, I have this cycle with my hair; (not that I am at all unique in this - I'm just saying . . .) I spend a year or two growing it out so it's nice and long. I buy a gazillion clips, headbands, and elastics. I obsess about color and just how long I want to get it. About the time it hits an inch or two below my shoulders I start to get really bugged by it and I rarely wear it down for more than an hour or two before I lash it back off my face. Somewhere in the cycle I (traditionally) get pregnant, so my hair gets thicker and grows even faster. Then I have a baby and the hair is not only more annoying because it's in my way, but what isn't falling out (such a lovely hormonal side-effect) is being yanked out as the baby climbs his way to my face 'Rapunzel-Rapunzel-let-down-your-hair-style. I start sneaking out the scissors and making ill-advised chops at my hair when Tyler isn't looking. Let's face it, if I hated my hair before I started the self-mutilation, there may not be a strong enough word to describe how I feel about it afterwards. So, I finally go in to have it cut. Last time around Grey was about three. He was so distraught about my short hair that he kept asking when I was going to get it 'cut long' again. When I say "kept asking", I mean he asked that for over a year! Keeping that reaction in mind I was fully prepared for my boys to express their distaste for a short cut again (even though it's not as short as the last time I chopped it). Sweet Nick looked at me, cocked his head, furrowed his brow, and then didn't say a word until hours later. After much thought (apparently) he came and told me in a very matter-of-fact tone that he likes my hair more than Macaroni and Cheese, the good kind - not from the box. And you should see that boy eat Macaroni and Cheese. He really likes my hair. (And so do I, by the way. Good riddance to the long stuff.)