Hair

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That Tara switches all over the place with her themes!

This week:

Hair.

"So show us your hairstyles. Baby hair, 70s hair, 80s hair, teen hair, hair disasters, hair highs. Your children's gorgeous hair. Or you could always share the time your 3 year old scalped herself and made you WEEP (no, just me then?)."

Oh heck, that probably means showing a photo of myself doesn't it? The only other photo I've got of hair that I'd like to show is one that I've already used in the Body Parts Gallery.

So this is my hair, and it's one of the few photos that you'll see of me on this blog so appreciate it while it lasts!

2002

I'd been growing my hair out from a jaw-length bob, which I'd had since the age of 12, for my wedding which was four months prior to this photo. I then got to the point where I didn't want to cut it because it had taken so long to grow! When the weight of it was so heavy it became impossible to wear it in a ponytail, I had it cut to just below shoulder-length which is where it has lived ever since.

Now pop over and see the other entries into The Gallery using the linky on the left sidebar.

Movie Meme: Chick Flicks

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I'm not a girly girl. Yes, I wear make-up and, when I have the opportunity, wear my hair down. Yes, I like nice jewellery. I don't do pink. I don't do fluffy. I don't do simpering female. I am the youngest of four children, the eldest two are boys. I'm a bit of a tom-boy.

Chick-flicks? Metal Mummy, really? Cool!

How contrary am I? I actually do like a good chick-flick, as long as they are the empowering women ones, the ones where the women aren't complete and utter simpering pathetic females throughout. I do like a good song and dance routine, but I've already talked about Strictly Ballroom and Moulin Rouge a few weeks ago. And I broke the rules in Week Two, so am limited to my choice here. Plus Dirty Dancing's already been 'done'.

I'm choosing my other favourite:

All the classic lines:

  • In case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time tonight.In case I forget to tell you later, I had a really good time tonight.
  • I appreciate this whole seduction thing you've got going on here, but let me give you a tip: I'm a sure thing.
  • Just how obscene an amount of cash are we talking about here? Profane or really offensive?
  • Big mistake. Big. Huge. I have to go shopping now.

Which leads me onto my most favourite scene in the entire film:

 

ShowOff ShowCase: Favourite Post About Being a Parent

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When I came up with the idea for ShowOff ShowCase it was going to be a 3-part mini-series: Most Popular, The One That Should Have Done Better, and Personal Favourite. The only problem is that, as I quickly discovered, in the world of blogging there are no unique ideas! In the past fortnight I've discovered that there are two very similar, already well-establised linkies, and for one of them the theme this week is Personal Favourite. Once I'd got over my dismay I started having a think whether I could be a little more specific in the theme for the link-up.

And so in light of the Hallmark celebration that is Mothers' Day, the ShowOff ShowCase theme this week is:

 

Favourite Post About Being a Parent


It could be a post that you wrote when you first became a parent where you either poured out all the love and devotion you felt for your first-born, or it might be a cry for help after a really bad night of sleeplessness due to the demon teeth. Maybe it was a moment when you were really proud of your child/children for an achievement, or possibly the first time you realised that you were all grown-up and had created another life. Either way, this is your favourite post, it's not statistics driven this time, it's not comments related, it's your choice. Go on Show Off about being a mum (or dad!).

I'll open the linky on Saturday morning, sometime between 8am and 9am.

6 sticks later…

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Reading MammyWoo's hilarious tale of 'How it all began' earlier, and almost waking The Boy up as I shook with laughter, has prompted me to share my own 'finding out I was pregnant' story.

Early in the September term in 2008 on a Friday afternoon, my friend asked me if (quite frankly) my boobs were still sore. I replied that they were but that it was probably PMT. She asked me if I was still late, I replied that it was September in school, of course I was. She looked me in the eye and said very seriously, "Chick, I really think you need to do a pregnancy test when you get home!" In that moment, it actually clicked in my head but I truly didn't think that I was pregnant.

I rushed over to Boots (not my local branch, too many people know me) and stood gawping at the selection in front of me. I mean, for God's sake, how many different ways are there of peeing on a stick and telling someone if they're pregnant or not? I picked up the own-brand one because they seemed middle of the road in price (the first step in spending thousands of pounds on your child).

I got home and discovered that I didn't need the loo. I drank three glasses of water. I did starjumps in the kitchen. I drank another glass of water. I did squats. Then I rushed upstairs, read the instructions which said some nonsense about waiting 'til morning, and squeezed some out. It really didn't occur to me to wait for my husband because I wasn't pregnant and I didn't want to get his hopes up. Placing the stick carefully on the side of the bath without shaking it (why do they waive it around on television? It says to hold it steady!), I waited.

I knelt down on the bathroom floor in front of the bath and waited.

I am rubbish at waiting.

I watched the first mark came through (I actually can't remember if it's supposed to be a cross or a line) and my heart sank as the second mark started to come through; it was just a line. Up until that point I really hadn't even entertained the idea that I could be pregnant, but now it's all I wanted. The tears started to flow…

… and then: a CROSS! It was faint as hell, but it was a cross!

I'm not entirely sure I breathed for a few minutes, I just knelt there rocking backwards and forwards staring increduously at this rapidly darkening mark.

I bet you can guess what I did next. Yep, the second test in the box.

I wee-ed on it wrongly. For the love of God, I completely and utterly missed! They need to make these things bigger and longer so you don't end up weeing all over your hands.

Then I did quite possibly the most stupid thing ever; I phoned my husband who was driving home from work. The conversation went exactly like this (it's imprinted in both our memories):

Me: Can you call into Boots on the way home and pick up a twin-pack of Clear Blue digital pregnancy tests please?

Him: Why?

Me: Because I wee-ed wrongly on the second one and it didn't work.

Him: What about the first one?

Me: Oh yes, that one was positive!

Him: <silence, then> I'll be home as soon as I can!!!

Yes I know: he was driving, he could have had a crash. When he did get in, he raced up the stairs where I was still sat looking at the first test.

The third stick provided us with another positive conclusion: I'm rubbish at aiming when I wee!

The fourth stick was dipped into a pot that I'd decided to use instead (pregnant!)

Both the fifth and sixth sticks (he'd been despatched for more) came up with that oh so familiar affirmation: you are 2-3 weeks pregnant! The feeling is one that I have never come close to before or since: your life has just changed (for the better) forever.

We spent the entire weekend wanting to tell everyone (we're both rubbish at keeping secrets) and not telling anyone. However when I walked into the school grounds on Monday morning and saw my friend crossing between the two buildings I called to get her attention. She took one look at me and squealed with delight. She also completely roared with laughter that I'd done six tests.

Well come on, be honest: how many did you do?

Census 2011

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I've seen and heard a lot of comments about the Census 2011 over the last month or so. Some of it positive, a fair amount of it is negative, some of it ridiculous; it is called the Census, not the Concensus you plonker!

I can understand people's scepticism about it, but personally I find it really exciting. As soon as The Boy is asleep (this may take some time, he's currently singing to his daddy upstairs, interspersed with occasionals squeals of glee and shouting), then hubby and I are going to sit down and fill it in in a ceremonial fashion.

The census is such an important way of collecting data; initially because of the impact to local services that it has. It is a crucial piece of data collection to ensure the correct and relevant provision and funding of public services. Health-care, child-care, public transport, schools, etc. How do you think they are able to predict the need for school places in the area if not for the census?

The aim is to get an idea of who is living in the UK on a specific day, and how they live their lives. Yes, some people may find it intrusive, but I find it fascinating and it just goes to highlight the impressive social, cultural and religious diversity that exists in Britain today.

Aside from the impact on today's services, just think about in the future. I've been researching my family tree over the past five years or so, and although I take a break every so often because it can become complex and confusing, whenever I return my first port of call is always the census records! Through the online collation and access of the records from 1911 and before, I have been able to find over 300 members of both my paternal and maternal family tree. I can trace the shift in social standing, find out what jobs they had, ascertain what happened to my great, great, great grandfather's children and where they lived. None of this would happen without the collation of information through the census.

Personally for me, this census is extremely exciting. Last census, I was about to embark on the biggest journey of my life! Ten years ago I was 23 and in my final year of my teaching degree, living at home with my mum and dad, borrowing my mum's car, jobless and in a long-distance relationship with an English bloke. This census I am married to that English bloke, a mother, a teacher, living in my own (ok, mortgaged) home, driving my own car. My world had changed and I can't wait to share that information on the census!