A Hair-rowing Experience

     My ten-year-old daughter, Evelyn, went for a hair cut recently. To the uninformed, that sounds reasonably benign. Usually by the time a child is ten, they have overcome most of those little fears and phobias that plague our toddlers. My son, for example, doesn’t necessarily like getting his hair cut, but he is now old enough to tolerate it.

     Not Evelyn.

     Because of her delays, Evelyn has a lot of sensory issues. For example, she is undersensitive to sounds. Loud sounds have never bothered her. She loves loud groups of kids, funny sounds, whatever. However, she is oversensitive to touch, and that is a major understatement. When she was a baby, she could gag just from touching something. She isn’t nearly as sensitive now, but she hates, hates, hates it when anyone has to fool with her hair, brush her teeth, or basically intrude upon her person in any way. 

     As you can imagine, cutting her hair is lots of fun. She climbs into the chair calmly enough, and if the stylist could figure out some way to cut her hair in, say, 40 seconds, things would be fine.  That’s about as long as Evelyn can tolerate the pinning up of the top layers, the spraying of the water, etc. Then the situation begins to deteriorate. Rapidly.

     I basically hold her down for the whole thing. She yells and struggles and tosses her head. It’s loads of fun. Here’s another scenario for you. I have to do the same thing every day when I brush her teeth.  It’s awful, but what am I supposed to do? If you don’t believe God has a sense of humor, consider the fact that my daughter has the thickest, heaviest head of hair I have ever seen. Ever. It couldn’t be left long, because she can’t stand any headbands or anything.  Also, when it gets too long, she gets food in it when she eats. Also, she can’t stand to have it washed or combed, so I have to fight through those things as well. Imagine that with long hair. No thanks. In short, her hair has to be cut. Obviously, her teeth have to be brushed, too. It’s not like I can just quit doing those things.

     It doesn’t really bother me all that much. The only thing that is moderately concerning to me is that she just keeps getting bigger and stronger, and I don’t. What happens when she gets bigger than me, or at least as big as me? She knows her teeth have to be brushed. Never once have I NOT brushed her teeth because she struggled. Yet she struggles with me every day, without fail, and has done so since the very first time I brushed her teeth all those years ago. So, I haven’t given up, or given in, but neither has she. More than that, she has great instincts. In the nearly five years she has been in public school, the school nurse has never once been able to take her temperature. Never once. Evelyn can smell fear a mile away.

          So anyway, a trip to the hair stylist is quite an odessy for us. I don’t know what the future holds. All I can say is, if you see a battered woman walking around with what appears to be Cousin Itt with rotten teeth, be sure and say “Hi.” And don’t try to touch Itt’s head.

Barack Who?

     I didn’t watch the president’s speech last night.

     My son did.  Well, parts of it on The Grandmother’s tv as he flitted in and out of the room like a hummingbird.  (She wasn’t really watching the speech–she was just making sure it wasn’t going to overrun Dancing With The Stars.) He came in where I was NOT watching the speech and asked me about the conflict in Lybia.  He wanted to know why we were there.  I offered my opinion, which was that I didn’t really know.  I told him from what I could gather, some people over there had grown tired of their psychotic dictator style of government and decided to rebel.  I also told him lots of people thought we shouldn’t be getting involved.  His response? “But, we’re the good guys! That’s our job, right?  We get rid of the bad guys!”

     Kids.

     Give him a break–he’s still young, and hasn’t developed enough coordination to balance up here on the fence with me.  Anyway, I gave him a nice, PC answer about how sometimes it’s not so easy to tell who the good guy is, blah blah blah blah……. He just said, “They need to get rid of that guy if he’s bad!”

     Now that my son is getting older, his questions (and he has tons of them) are getting harder and harder to answer.  The truth is, I don’t stay abreast of political topics like I did when I didn’t have anything else to do. I know who most of our top officials are (I think) and I sort of have a grip on current events, but the reality is I suffer from what a lot of Americans suffer from—-apathy.  I just don’t really care about politics anymore.

     Why?

     Well, it’s not that hard to figure out. Mostly, I don’t trust politicians, and since they make up a large portion of the government, that’s a problem. I’m always fascinated by political rallies.  Barack Obama is a good example.  People screamed and cheered for him and jumped up and down and waved signs and basically just acted like they were fans at a rock concert or something.  He said “Yes We Can!” and they just screamed their heads off.  Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t have any particular beef with Obama.  I don’t get all wrapped up in that party stuff, either.  These days, the lines are so blurred–conservative, liberal, right wing, left wing, moderate, extra chunky, rocky road, whatever–that you can’t even tell the difference.  The point is, politicians tell us lots of stuff, but usually they are lying.  I mean, even if Obama wanted to change the country, the fact is that he is just one man, and one man doesn’t control our country–this IS a democracy, after all.  Furthermore, too many people don’t even know what the issues are (apathy–remember?)  and you can’t change stuff when you don’t even know what’s wrong in the first place.  So I don’t even listen to those speeches.  I’m usually watching something like Spongebob. Now, give me a candidate that actually got up and spoke the truth, and then I might be interested.  I imagine that speech would be something like this:

“I assure you I am going to break each one of the promises I make to you, more than once if I can manage it.  I will waste amounts of money that you can’t even fathom on bloated, useless programs that do nothing.  Furthermore, I will never, ever support a program that will actually help the American people, and if I come across a program like that already in effect, I will promptly start cutting it.  I will vote for the issue whose lobbyists throw the most money at me, and will inappropriately spend and generally mismanage every dollar I can get my hands on. I also swear to do whatever it takes to make myself rich.  I will allow myself a cost-of-living raise every year, but I will never do anything to improve the economy for anyone else. Lastly, I promise to stay in this position of power until I die, regardless of the fact that I can no longer string three words together in a sentence, or, if for some reason I do leave this post, I will retire a millionaire, bloated like some nightmare leech with not only the money, but the trust, hopes and dreams of every American. Thank you!”

     I’d vote for that guy in a heartbeat.

     So yes, I’m apathetic. I don’t really care all that much, and I suspect I’m not alone.  In short, I think we’ve lost faith in our government. We don’t trust them, and they are sort of a joke to us.  Here’s the bad part–they still have a lot of power.  Power to do things like totally ruin our economy, make it so no one can get medical care, or reinstate the draft (if you have a son, a chill should have just went down your spine.) Not-so-funny things. Maybe that’s the problem.  We don’t follow the issues because we don’t want to think about the issues.

     So maybe it’s okay that those people cheered for Obama, not because they believed what he said, but because they wanted to.

     For what it’s worth, Spongebob is against war.

To Read or Not to Read?

There are a couple of reasons you might want to start following this blog.

  • I try very hard to always be honest when I write.  The way I figure it, that’s sort of the point.
  • There might actually be some things in here that you can relate to.  I’m a mom–both to a special needs and a “regular” kid–a wife, a sister, daughter, granddaughter and friend.

There are also some reasons you may not want to follow this blog.

  • The censors from my brain to my mouth are almost completely down. The ones between my brain and fingers are only slightly better.  I have a tendency to say (or write) whatever pops into my mind.
  • I am not a hopeless romantic, and tend to be rather dry, bitter, and cynical about certain issues, even issues that directly concern my own life.

Anyway, mostly I think this will be a learning experience for me, and my hope, as I go along, is that maybe someone else besides myself can learn from my mistakes. This blog is about me being a mom, and a wife, and a sister, and a caretaker, but it’s not only about those things.  It’s about life in general, and I guess we all have that in common, don’t we?

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...