Curse of the Curls

Most mornings, my sweet little Bryanna wakes up to her hair looking like a wild and crazy jungle girl. Its beautiful when its tame, untangled and her locks are in place. But the challenge of almost every morning is getting her hair brushed. This girl can get herself ready in the morning, except for the hair. We are working on that one. And I do feel for her. Unless we get it wet, its a bear to brush. Lately when we finally get it all brushed out she says to me, "Mom, Look how long my hair is!!" It is actually pretty long when it is straight, but then it curls up and becomes shoulder length again. This kids just wants long straight hair, and I'm afraid she's not getting it, ever. If only we were all happy and content with what we were given! I get stopped in the grocery store, at the park, practically anywhere by strangers who admire her blond locks. They think I've curled her hair for some special occasion and ask what the big day is for. Some times I just go with it so I don't have to explain why her hair is gorgeous for no reason! If she only knew the envy most people have for her hair, maybe she would appreciate it a little more. Too bad you always want what you don't have!

And for this silly boy, he's my little snuggler, cuddle bug and still gives me a kiss when I beg for one. He is content to just sit on my lap and do nothing, or let me tickle him to pieces and blow bubbles on his little belly (my favorite!) These two kiddos are the best at playing together while we are home just hanging out. That's what I've been doing for the past 6 weeks anyway with my new limited lifestyle.

There are advantages to a slower pace. My house is getting more organized, my laundry is always done and caught up, the dishes are always done, and the floor is kept, swept and clean. My fall decor is all out and looking fantastically spooky. And one more thing to add, my appetite has been cut in half, partly from the nausea and partly because I just can't exercise anymore. I'm not complaining, I'm actually happy about the loss of appetite, especially if I can't get my body moving and sweating, I don't want to pile on the pounds.

I've hit the 12 week mark, which is big for me. In the very beginning, it was getting through to the next week and hoping the baby was still going strong. Then it was getting to the 12th week in my mind that would seal the fate of the baby. Well, not much has changed, the risks are still around, but the best news is the baby is growing and getting bigger than the blood clot, so everyday I'm getting away from the reality of another miscarriage. I have been feeling optimistic and that's all a mother can do anyway. So here's to hitting 3 months!