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52 Weeks of Us

52 Weeks of Us

52 of Me: Eight

It’s been a while since I had really short hair like this, even if it is just the illusion of short hair.  Looking at this face staring back at me, it kind of throws me for a loop as it’s one I don’t completely recognize.  Some days I wonder if it’s time to cut all the hair off again, kind of like getting rid of all the dead weight I’ve carried around, get a fresh start.  Then I remind myself that the last time I cut it all off I said I wouldn’t do it again, deciding after a few short months that I wanted my long hair back.

Is it just a safety blanket I cling to?  One that I neglect each day because I can just put it up in a clip and forget about it.  I want it to be there but I don’t want to put in the effort to care for it.  Maybe I should be brave again, that’s what I was trying to do the last time I cut it all off, remind myself that I can do anything.  Even if it’s a mistake, it will be my mistake, one that I’ll surely learn from and one that time will always heal.  Because hair does always grow back, I’ve got the roots to prove it.

March 1, 2013
52 Weeks of Us

52 of Him: Eight

OK, I get it.  You’re tired of the paparazzi.  But you are rocking those sunglasses!

It was an uncharacteristically bright and sunny afternoon on the way home from school the other day, the sun hanging just low enough in the sky to direct its rays straight into our eyes.  The refrain from the back seat was “the sun is in my eyes” and “the sun is making my eyes close.”  So I did what any mother would do and made the ultimate sacrifice, giving up my own sunglasses so that my child didn’t get blinded by the sunshine.

Then, the refrain from the backseat changed to “these glasses make everything red.”  Well, but doesn’t everything look a little nicer when it’s rosy?

February 28, 2013
52 Weeks of Us

52 of Me: Seven

Mr. Happy was an impulse buy at a gift shop in Oxford while I was waiting to catch the bus, bought as a joke for someone who was having a particularly bad day.  And while they appreciated the sentiment, the mug ended up in the back of the cupboard, stacked behind the fancier more stylish mugs.  But recently, I’ve adopted Mr. Happy and made him my own.  I thought what better way to start my day each morning than with my favorite beverage served up hot with a bright yellow smile.  And sometimes all you need in the morning is just a simple reminder to put a smile on your face.

February 22, 2013
52 Weeks of Us

52 of Me: Six

It’s morning time and that always comes way too early for this night owl.  My son’s shouts from the next room, “Mummy, mummy!” wake me from my deep slumber.  I crawl out from underneath the warm snuggly “Duvet of Life” as we call it, the super heavy winter one that makes my other half sweat like he’s been in a sauna.  The cold air hits my arms and face like an unwelcome visitor as my feet hit the floor.  I stumble in the darkness into the little man’s room still wiping the sleep from my eyes.  “Good morning sweetheart,”  I say.  “How are you this morning?”  He gives me a big hug and I cradle him in my arms as I help him climb out of his big boy bed and put his feet on the floor.  He’s ready to go downstairs and play.  I still need to brush the sweaters off my teeth.  As I finish in the bathroom, I see his shadowy figure descending down the stairs in the dawn.  It’s a cold rainy dreary day, one of many we see in the English winter.  But we’re awake now and breakfast and the rest of a lazy Sunday await.

February 15, 2013