Today I went swimming. I slathered my children in 40 spf sunblock, got everyone dressed and ready and headed to the pool in out apartment complex. Shuffling the kids in and out of the car and into the building, up the stairs, and out the sliding glass doors to the pool was such a workout that I had forgotten to put sunblock on myself. In all honesty, I kind of wanted to get a tan. I thought, "a little tan won't hurt, It will look good in the wedding pictures". For those of you who know me well, you already know I have a profound fear of the sun, and getting skin cancer, and have often avoided it at all costs. During the summers I am a sunblock fiend so today was very uncharacteristic of me. And I paid dearly.
I am now sporting red shoulders and a very shiny nose, and if you ever saw it, you could even say it glows. I am cranky because of my sunburn. I no longer care if I am tan in my wedding pictures. I am never forgetting the sunblock again. I had totally forgotten what a burn feels like. The last time I got a sunburn was about 2.5 years ago. It wasn't really a sunburn, it was a tanning bed burn. When Charley was in basic training for the Air Force, I was a very bored, and very lonely wife with too much time and extra money on her hands. I bought a tanning membership at the beauty shop I used to get my hair cut at. One day I decided to try my new membership out and I requested a bed for fifteen minutes. The girl at the desk said I should probably only stay in for 10, but I didn't listen. I figured that because I grew up in California, my dad is Hispanic, and I had never really ever burned before, that I could get away with the extra five minutes. Boy was I wrong. I peeled for days. This burn isn't as bad as that one, and it's only on my shoulders and nose. The tanning bed burn was on my entire body. It was horrible. I never tanned again, and to this day I still have 4 tans left at that beauty salon. I don't ever plan on using them either.
This evening I took Bubba in for his first haircut. His father was supposed to take him while he had the kids all last week but he didn't. So I took him because I am sick of my child having a mullet. We went to Mastercuts in the Hickory Point Mall, and there was only a 5 minute wait. The hairdresser put a booster chair in the seat and I tried to sit him in it but he immediately arched his back and started flailing. I call this Spaghetti Syndrome. You know, when your child arches their back, throws a fit, then goes limp. So I had to sit in the chair with him on my lap. He was not cooperating with the woman. He was writhing around and screaming. I finally just took hold of his forehead and chin and held him in a vice grip while the poor girl tried to buzz the back of his head. The top was easier, she handled his wriggling well when she was using the scissors. Hollie was distraught that her baby brother was crying in fear as this lady was buzzing him down and I was holding him in my death grip restraint. She kept yelling, "That's MY bubba!!!". In the end it turned out adorable. He doesn't look like mullet-baby anymore, now he looks like a little man. He was walking down the mall like a stud as we made our way out to the car. He was puffing his chest out and smiling and gawking at any glimpse of a reflection he saw of himself. I saved a lock of his hair. I am one of those obsessive kind of mothers who save everything. I even still have his umbilical cord stump, isn't that gross? Hehe, I don't really think it is.
I think I shall take my tired and cranky burnt self to bed now. I wanted to post since I've been trying to cheat by posting pictures. Plus, I needed to write something. I love writing so dearly, and I am scared if I don't use my English skills that I will lose them forever. B-dee-ba-deeb-deeeeba-de, That's All Folks.