April was definitely one of the craziest months we've had in a while, and that's even if you don't count the roughly 17,000 hours I spent dyeing, un-dyeing, RE-DYEING, re-UNdyeing and then thinking about/panicking about/hating/accepting/shampooing my hair. April 2012 will be recorded in history as probably my top shampoo-consumption month of ALL TIME. I should tell you that at one point I read that Prell shampoo was great at fading hair color, so I bought some, and not only did it not do anything (seriously, NOT A THING), it also smelled exactly like whatever they use to try to cover up the smell of a port-a-potty. You know that smell? I know you know that smell. It's not a NICE smell, it's just a STRONG, faux-floral smell that isn't even all that much better than feces, and YES, I was lathering up with it a couple times a day.
Anyway, my hair is still a shade or two darker than my natural color probably is, but it isn't HORRIFYING anymore, although I'm not sure whether that's because I actually succeeded in fading it a bit, or if I just finally got used to it. Either way: EH. I'm over it. I have no more brainpower left for thinking about hair. I am OVER THE HAIR.
(Is not so bad anymore?)
In April, Asher started t-ball, which has been pretty great. Oh, it's not like he's actually TALKING to anyone on the team, but he listens to instructions and he gives high-fives to his coaches and grins when he runs the bases and really likes going to practice and to his games, and that's enough for me. Is he grasping the concept of baseball? Well, probably not, as seen by the fact that he ran straight at the pitcher's mound last week after his turn at bat, but he's learning to swing a bat and throw a ball, and the experience of being part of a team has been really really good for him.
In April I also registered him for kindergarten, which was disheartening. When he was two, Asher had a LOT of trouble separating from us just for Sunday school (all one hour of it) – it took probably three months to get him acclimated to his class, and that's probably because his teacher let him sit on her lap for the majority of those three months. But once he got used to going, he never looked back, and he never once cried at preschool dropoff, even on the very first day. But kindergarten orientation required the parents to meet in the library, and the upcoming kindergarteners to stay in their classrooms and I know the school was just so big and there were so many kids (60, at least) and he absolutely fell apart when I left him. I know he was fine after a few minutes, but it was really, really hard, and now I'm completely paranoid about the first day of school. So paranoid that I don't want to really talk about it, not yet, at least. I know that he will acclimate; I know that it takes a lot of getting used to. But I wish we could just push past that first stage and arrive immediately at the part of kindergarten where he loves school and his teacher and recess and riding the bus home at the end of the day and I can stop mainlining antacids.
We have grand plans to bribe him through his first week of school by promising him a trip to Richmond to see a NASCAR race. Which reminds me that I haven't told you yet about the fact that Asher is suddenly a HUGE NASCAR FAN, WEEP. Sometime recently, after a very longstanding obsession with the movie Cars, he figured out that car racing was REAL, and that REAL PEOPLE DO IT, and we turned on a race one weekend afternoon and he sat like a statue in front of the television, completely enthralled. He will watch ANYTHING race – cars, trucks, three-legged dogs – just as long as they all have numbers painted on their sides so that he can keep up with who is winning and losing. It is... weird, actually. NASCAR racing? In MY HOME? I would have NEVER believed it, but it turns out that when your kid thinks something is really super awesome, you kind of find yourself picking it up too, as horrifying as it is for me to admit. It's just that enjoyment I get out of watching him love something. And this is coming from someone who has been in Talladega, Alabama during a race weekend (and you people familiar with NASCAR will know what I am talking about). IT WAS A LOT OF TANK TOPS, is what I'm saying. A LOT OF UNNECESSARY TANK TOPS.
Lucy, despite being three, is not conforming to ANY of the stereotypes I expected her to at this age. She is pleasant and reasonable 98 percent of the time (I thought she would be an AWFUL three-year-old) and she has very little interest in girly things, like dolls or princesses or picking out her own clothes. Actually that's not true, she does like to pick out her own shirt every day, but she only wants to wear shirts with ANIMALS on them, of which we have approximately three. Also, if she wears a shirt with a dog on it, then she wants to take a matching stuffed animal along in the car with us, which poses a problem when she is wearing, say, a shirt with a butterfly on it. WE DO NOT HAVE A STUFFED BUTTERFLY. This is, FUNNILY ENOUGH, the two percent of the time when she acts COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE, but usually we are able to talk through it. The last time she wore her butterfly shirt and we did not have a stuffed butterfly to tote along with us, we simply brainstormed to think of an animal who might be FRIENDS with a butterfly. This led us to Bambi, who has a butterfly on his tail in the movie, which led us to Thumper, WHO WAS SITTING RIGHT THERE ON HER BED, problem solved. Thumper goes with her butterfly shirt, but please don't ask her about it if you run into us, because it takes her about an hour to explain the process of deciding on Thumper and WE HAVE PLACES TO BE, OKAY? I also want the record to show that today she changed her mind and decided that she no longer wants to be a drummer when she grows up; now she would instead like to be a singer.
“Like Erik?” I asked her. Erik, my brother, heads up the worship band at our church.
“Yeah, like Erik,” she said.
“Well,” Asher piped up, “She can be a singer like Erik, but she has to stay a girl.” SO GLAD HE POINTED THAT OUT. Also so glad he's right. I'm keeping this girl.