No, Friday, you are not my favorite -- and the struggle with small hair

Friday is pretty much everybody's favorite day of the work week.

 

It isn't mine.

 

That's right, I said it.  Friday -- dis-affectionately known as short day around here -- is not my favorite day.

 

Our schedule on Friday is a gigantic web of running here and there and I simply do not love it. 

 

It's not like there is nothing going on any other day, mornings are forever hectic and harried, but Fridays just don't stop.  

 

We all get up at 6:20, Bryce is out the door at 7:25 (this particular Friday also included a bonus trip to the jr high because someone forgot his homework -- and I hadn't showered yet after my morning work out so lucky jr high kids that got to see that...NICE!), the elementary kids head out at 8:20, I leave to take Ellie to pre-school at 8:45, I shoot back to the elementary as a classroom volunteer from 9:00 - 10:30 pick Logan up from kindergarten at 10:35 drive over to pick Ellie up from pre-school at 10:50, go home and finish up laundry, dishes etc that need attention, get lunch for the small ones then pick up jr high kids at 12:30 then head home, put the littlest littles to bed and get ready for everyone else to get home at 1:10.  Once the kids are home it is piano lessons times four (my kids get Friday lessons as it is the day with no dance/sports practices or scouts or mutual to interfere) and then the calls of "Moooom, can I invite (insert name of some child's friend) over to play?".    

 

By the time Josh gets home I am exhausted. 

Don't get me wrong, I am happy to manage this plus sized puddle of kidlets, but Friday do push me to my limits more than most other days.

 

Well. 

 

Last Friday I got a surprise.  As I was waving to our elementary crew, I told Ellie we needed to do her hair before it was time for school.  Now, Ellie loves school, but you would never know it when we are getting ready to go because she cries every week about how she doesn't want to be there and she sobs when I drop her off.....every.....single.....week.  When I pick her up she is all smiles and hugs for teacher, but I never see that version of the child while dropping off.  

 

So, hair.

 

I ask her what she would like me to do with her hair (she hates having it flop around in her face, but she is a bit of a picky pants about things like clothes and hairstyles so I try to let her choose whenever feasible).

 

She very matter of factly told me she wanted princess hair. 

 

I looked at her, befuddled.  What the heck is princess hair?  I said, "sure" and plunged into her tresses assuming that whatever I did we would just label as princess hair and there you go.

 

Nope.

 

I finished and sent her to look.  She came back moments later with a disgusted "sly brow" look on her face (see previous post) and let me know that was not princess hair.  So I asked her what princess hair should look like.  She considered for a minute and then walked out of the room.  I thought maybe I was done.  Maybe I won by default.

 

Nope.

 

She came back with help for her inept, princess-dunce of a mom.

 

"Mom, I want hair like this."

 

Uh, yeah. 

Well...

Ok...

 

We gave it a try.

 

It didn't turn out perfectly, but Ellie was happy so we were good.

 

TA DA!  PRINCESS HAIR!!

It is a bit rumpled after a run in with a rogue jacket, but you get the idea.

Despite my lack of understanding of royal hair stylings, we both made it out alive and Ellie made it to school....where she sobbed as I left.  Guess princess hair or no some things just don't change.  Good thing I love that little sprite.