Hair!

8-26-09

We are trying to sign Bobby up for AYSO.

My dad asked me yesterday, as Bobby kicked around a ball in their driveway, if we were going to sign him up as we had considered. I told him that due to expense, I had not planned on it this year. My dad, without missing a beat, says, “We’ll pay for it!” I was shocked at the generosity. How could I say no? Especially since Bobby seemed excited at the whole thing. So am I. I filled out the paperwork for him to play in my old region and I am picking up a check from my folks tonight. The only hitch is that it may be too late for this season. Apparently they start taking sign ups as early as May, so I have an email in to the head of the region to see if there is a team out there for him.

It will be a lot of chaos with things like practice once or twice a week, and maybe one or two games a weekend. It isn’t a huge deal since we will just make do (let’s face it, I have not even begun to have chaos with the kids.). I am anxious to see him in his little uniform. So cute!

Of course, I am also setting myself up for more cracks about his hair. Look, I know that there are people that will say I should cut Bobby’s hair. The problem? I love his hair. I would be ok with it shorter if only to keep it from being tangled. He was interested in the whole Mohawk thing, until we explained that it does mean we would have to shave part of his head. He was not ok with this. Turns out, he likes his hair long, too.

A friend of my parents, who bowls with my dad, approached us on Sunday before bowling. She started lecturing us on Bobby’s hair. I have come to recognize starting the second my stick said I was knocked up that every person in this world would feel the need to tell me how to raise my kid, despite not being asked for advice. I endured belly rubs from strangers, raised eyebrows as I fed my kid in public, and politely listened to random folks telling me the dos and don’ts of kids. I ignore most of it, which is tough for me, I have to say. I don’t take kindly to people butting in. I draw the line at certain things, though.

Offering me a tip on a way to help a kid with something is fine. Us moms do need to stick together. We are in the trenches and some of us do see things that other moms may have not had to deal with yet. I get that. I have even come away with some amazing gems. Why do you think I still read both parenting magazines cover to cover, and still hunt online for more info?

What irks me is when other people think that it is their job to parent me. This woman spoke to me as if I had come home past curfew and smelled of booze. It was condescending and downright rude. I tuned out, but mostly out of respect for my dad. I knew that it would be bad to bitch out this woman in front of all of his bowling buddies.

And it wasn’t even like she was yelling at me for say, smoking in front of my kid. Or perhaps she was intervening because I had hit my kid. No, this assault was based purely on the fact that my 4 year old son has long hair.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I have heard the arguments, people. Sure, he may look like a girl (he is quite pretty, so even without the hair I think there could be confusion). Even my mom thinks this could be a problem in school. Our counter has basically been, it is his hair, he can cut it when he wants. This doesn’t sit well with my dad.

He thinks the statement of it being up to Bobby makes no sense being that he is 4 and we are his parents, so we have control. Sure, this is true. We decide when he goes to bed, we decide what he eats, and mostly what he wears in terms of what he has to choose from. How damaging is it to let him wear his hair however he wants? Is it really going to break him?

It isn’t like he doesn’t have his own influences, by the way. His best friends at preschool (On a side note, I used to be unhappy with Kenny as his friend with his negative influence, but the new kid, Liam, I don’t know about him yet.) both sport either a Mohawk or a shaved head. He could easily come home, tell me he wants hair like them. I would then put him in the car, drive down to Supercuts and hand the nice people $20, hold back my tears, and voila, I would have a bald kid. But his friends don’t seem to care that their friend has long hair. So Bobby doesn’t feel pressure to cut it.

Trust me, he will want to cut it at some point. And honestly, there are times when I have considered cutting it short just to make things easier. But now if I do, it will look as though I buckled to pressure. The rebel in me won’t have that. Hell, even if the rest of the world told me they didn’t care, and only my dad was pressuring me, I wouldn’t cut it just to irk him. Don’t get me wrong. I love my dad to death, but sometimes his old fashioned sticks out like a sore thumb, and that teenage desire to do the exact opposite of the old man comes out in force.

My mom never teases or harasses me about it. I don’t think she likes it long, but she knows that it is my decision, and she knows I am a good mom. She worries about school, but she has only mentioned it maybe once or twice, and then let it go. Perhaps she understands on the level of a mom that this is irritating.

It is a shame that Dax doesn’t have Bobby’s hair since I am pretty sure Dax would handle the bitching out of people for me, and get away with it. Some lady, who was butting in, pissed off Dax to no end at Costco. Dax saw her sitting at a table, eating, and says to me, “Who’s dat guy?” I explained it was a lady who was taking a break from shopping. In the middle of my explanation, this lady butts in and says, “I know who you are! You are Jack! I heard your mum call you that.” Dax was pissed.

“I not Jack!! I am Dax!” he declared with total disgust. I laughed, and I assumed that was it. Nope. The lady was insistent. She told him 2 more times he was Jack, to which Dax yelled at her some more. I tried to tell her that he was in fact correct, but she wasn’t listening. I am pretty sure she then referred to Bobby as his sister, and really, I should have walked away at that point. Luckily, the crazy lady stopped interacting with my obviously annoyed 3 year old.

I guess the problem I have is that even though I have a crappy self esteem, constantly worrying that I am not a good enough mother to these boys, there also is a sense of pride when I get tons of compliments on how good my kids are. People have told me I am a good mom, so I have been able to mostly keep the fear of child services out of my head. So when these people start criticizing (and not even worthy criticism) I start to second guess myself. This of course leads to me being pissed, which then leads to all out anger at anybody who approaches me about my kids, even if it is for a nice thing. I get all Mama Bear on the world, and I want to protect them as best as possible from raging idiots. Of course, I also explain to the boys that a good chunk of the general populous is dumb as rocks, but let’s face it, they don’t understand the magnitude of this just yet.

In other news, it has been eerily quiet around work. The layoffs are scheduled for tomorrow, which is like this horrible dark cloud hanging over us. Despite having been told I am more than likely not on the chopping block, I won’t feel ok until I clock out on Friday. Tammy seems rather ok with everything. I think it may be just both of us not talking about it. Not sure.

Damn. The region manger for AYSO emailed me back. Apparently they are in fact full for under 6. If I turn in the paperwork today, though, I can get him on a waiting list. If he doesn’t get placed by September, they send back the check. I might as well send it in and see if that works. Worst case scenario, we do it next year.

It is going to be a long day. Tammy is leaving at lunch, so I will really be bored.

I think I will be taking the kittens to the shelter this afternoon. I want them to get checked in and adopted out quickly, so getting them settled before the weekend crowds is best. I will be sad that they might be nervous and scared, but I think they will be ok. I am going to get the AYSO check today, and tomorrow I am going to my parents since they are busy on Friday. I suppose I can take them Friday. We will see.

Ok, that isn’t bad. Apparently there are only 2 kids on the waiting list. So he may have a shot! YAY!!!!

The forest fires have even made our warehouse smell like it is on fire. Crazy!!

The good news is that it looks like I am not pregnant. I appear to be spotty, which is appropriate for this time frame. It also explains the ick I had yesterday. It is my version of cramping. My IUD does seem to rock, though. It has been in for I think just shy of a year with no complications. I have not had to use a condom since, and it appears that my periods will in fact me nothing.

Tammy is not happy. I can tell in her body language. The boss just called (Because clearly he doesn’t think we can handle the day without him. And if this is the case, why take the day off?????) and when it was her turn to talk to him, she was visibly annoyed. I tried to lighten the mood. He asked me if anything exciting was going on, so I told him Los Angeles forest was on fire. I don’t think he knew what to do with this. Normally, I could joke about his dumbness with Tammy after said exchange, but I got the impression this was not wise today. I don’t blame her. I don’t know what to do for her right now.

Seriously. I am bored. If I am reading about the swine flu, then I clearly need to get out.

I am also falling asleep, which is not good.

I have a busy afternoon if I am going to get a check and then get home to cook dinner. I might not go back on Thursday. Maybe I will let my parents come to us and I can clean house a bit, and set up the kitten area so Bobby can play with them before they go away.

Ok, I am tired. I must have been dozing off with my eyes open (a cool trick at work) and in the monitor reflection I could swear I saw this little fuzzy muppet guy chewing on his rainbow socks. He is gone now, which kind of bums me out. He was funny.