Haircut

Sam got his haircut this week. It always makes me a little sad when he does (and not just because I'm "follicularly challenged")

I suppose its because a haircut signifies passage of time, and reminds me that Sam is growing up so fast-- too fast. He is just so adorable now, I can't imagine him being any cuter (but I know that he will be). He is so much fun to be around. A haircut is such an abrupt change too. One day, he's got this mop of unkempt hair, and the next its all short, and he looks so much older.

I remember hating having my haircut as a child--probably until I was 11 or 12, there was crying involved. I wouldn't let them wet my hair, or use the clippers. I remember my Mom giving in to my crying one day, and we left the barber's without getting the haircut. Poor woman, the crap I put her through (although the barber incidents couldn't hold a candle to the dentist). Maybe thats why all my childhood pictures look so miserable. Perhaps its a missed blessing that I lost all my hair.

Sam is such a good boy when he gets his haircut too--he doesn't fuss or cry, and this time he even wore the cape and let them use the clipper!

You know you're getting old when.....

There are many ways a person realizes they are getting old. For some, it might be the first grey hair, for others, the first sign of losing hair. I come across people every day for whom it is realizing they need bifocals. For me, the realization came Saturday night.

It seems that someone in the condo apartments on the other side of the woods was having a party that night. After listening to the noise, and being concerned that it would wake Sam up, I did it. Yep, I called the cops! The worst part is what I said. Bethany chortled from the living room as the following phrase exited my lips: "They are making quite a lot of noise, and there seems to be a lot of hooting and hollering over there".

The kicker is guess what time I made the phone call complaining of too much noise? 10:30--no, midnight--no, 1 am--no.......
..
..
..9:15 pm (insert sheepish grin here).

Yep, I'm old

Go Leafs Go

Tonight Sam and I got a chance to watch the Maple Leafs on TV. Its a rare treat, since they don't show them unless they are playing the Devils, Rangers or Islanders. The game vs. the Islanders started at 7--we watched the first 10 minutes, then it was bath time. After Sam's bath, he got a special treat and had his soy milk (he just switched from formula this week!) while watching the game. He had some pretty funny comments. After seeing a body check up close, he said 'why did he do that'. He kept wanting to know which one is Darryl...." is that him".
You'd have to have read My Leafs Sweater to understand that one.

Needless to say, our bedtime books tonight were My Leafs Sweater and Z is for Zamboni!

Here's a picture from when Sam was less than a year old (and I was 30 pounds heavier), with both of us in our Leafs regalia.

Pete vs. Bruce

Today on the way home from daycare, I decided to switch music on Sam. Since we've been back from San Diego, I have successfully transferred my car music from the Wiggles, Laurie Berkner and Raffi, to my favourite, Bruce Springsteen.

Sam has been obsessed with the guitar, since his Grandma Shel and her friend Jonathan bought him a real guitar, as well as a ukelele for Chanukah. I'd been playing some of my Bruce bootlegs, mostly from his recent solo acoustic tour. Sam has taken to the songs, 'Maria's Bed' and 'Empty Sky', so that's what I get to listen to on trips to and from daycare. After two weeks of those,
however, even the most rabid Bruce fan can get a little bored.

Today I mixed it up by putting in a Pete Townshend bootleg.
At first, he said "I don't want Pete" and started getting ready to cry, but then once I started the CD, he said "who is this?, and seemed to enjoy it. He even asked me to move my hockey stick, so that he could hold it and pretend he was playing guitar.

His favourites were the fast strumming on Drowned, but he also liked Sleeping Dog and Let My Love Open the Door. We'll see who he requests tomorrow.