Because a Mother Can Not Be Everywhere ...

Liam...That actually should be the entire context of the post and you would have a good laugh and move on. But because you don't actually live with Liam, your going to need the story...

I got an email from my Mom, in which she was a little panicky about how to pick Elleory up from the airport, and would I do a little research and let her know what to do? I waited until I could put Liam down for a nap to start on that project, because we were having one of THOSE DAYS. I knew that if I gave him the excuse to be destructive in anyway he would take it and run with it. Now USUALLY, I can trust Liam to stay in bed, and sleep. He's a sleeper. I put him in his bed, with the instructions that I always give him..."Stay in this bed."

Not five minutes later, Anders comes into my "office" dragging my hair clippers behind him.

"Where did you get those?" I ask

"From E-um" Anders answers

"Why does Liam have my clippers?" I ask?

"He's doing his hair cut." Anders responds

Just then Liam comes skipping into where we are, just grinning.

"Look Mom! Hair cut!"

Liam with the hair scissors in the bed, where he was supposed to be napping.

Now, it's a sad fact of life that while I'm fuming, I grab the camera to take pictures because a). when I'm done being amazed, mad, crazy...I'm going to blog this, and b). I'm going to have to have justifiable evidence for Brian that the impending hair cut needed to happen.

All of this is happening WHILE I'm on hold with the airline, trying to get information about unaccompanied minors. IRONIC? It's not like I was watching soap operas eating Bon-Bon's or on Facebook hanging out doing nothing, no, I was tending to the upcoming needs of another child.

I hang up. I call Brian. He answers...

"I quit..." I say

"Why?" says Brian

I proceed to mention the goings on of the day. Oddly enough EACH sentence starts with "Liam did..."

Then I get to the hair cut.

"How bad can it be honey?" Brian asks "Can you leave it until I get home and we can deal with it together?"

"NOT ON YOUR LIFE!!" I say "I actually have to leave the house with this child today, I'm a stylist...NO child of mine..." Blah, blah, blah... I'm sure you get the rest of the conversation.

I got the moral support I needed to march my kid across the street to shave his head bald in the neighbor's garage, so I could have someone on hand to take pictures, and hold him down so I could finish what he started.

The finished product. Bald baby boy...

This is the "remorse" picture.

I'm sure you can tell, just by his little face how much he LOVED this whole experience.

He did actually cry about his hair. Not that it made ME feel any better...it just made me laugh.