Merry Christmas. and a.....

Most ROCKIN' New year.....

This dude said that to me yesterday as I was on my trip to my new favorite thing. I thought it was cute and totally appropriate for the new even more fabulous life I am trying to create for myself.

I'm running late here with the postings but it was for a semi-good reason. I went to get my hair done by the world's most slowest braider..... 22 mother freaking hours and we still were not done when I decided to pack it in and leave. I mean, I do look pretty freaking fly but honestly two days of my life to get my buttas whooped is nonsensical. Especially when we first started and she was talking about 6 hours. Why I believed her I will never know. I should have known there was going to be some bullshit in the game.... My mama recommended her to me!

Yup, thats right. On Thursday, I drove all the way from my most divalicious abode to my mother's home 45 minutes away in Bolingbrook. And then and only then, was I told that the lady I had the appointment with lived another 25 minutes away in Lockport! SONUVA, SONUVA!
The only benefit of all this nonsense was that I could leave Solstice with my mom and go to the lady's house and just focus on getting my hair done and not be worried about Solstice running around, changing diapers, and going pee pee in the potty.... Once again I should have known there was going to be some bullshit in the game......

The braider has 1.2.3.4. FIVE CHILDREN.... All in the house. All in desperate need of a smooth ass whupping. Alll over me and my shit. Allllllll in the way of me getting my hair done quickly and flyly.

I have many horrors to speak of but I will only speak of one. The little bad ass boy found his little bad ass way into a bag of my hair and proceed to wrap it around his entire little bad ass body. He is still alive. That was not my choice.

Six hours later at 1 am, I had about 1/6 of my hair braided, an extreme headache, a bag of hair gone bad ass, a extreme need to take off my belt, and an attitude.

How in the hell did I get my self into this mess? Ah yes, my mother! So at 1 o'clock
in the morning I made my way back to Bolingbrook to go pick up my daughter and drive another 45 minutes to go home. And then drive back to Lockport in Saturday by 7am and finish by 3pm to make it to Michael's company Christmas party.
On the pissed off ass way back to my mom's house reality hit.
Ain't no way in hell that chick was going to be done with my hair in 7 hours when it took her 6 hours to barely put a dent in the job.

Then the sad reality hit. I was going to have to spend the night at my mom's house, wake up in the morning and spend all of my lovely delicious design all day Friday at the IHOBAK. The International House of Bad Ass Kids.

I hate sleeping away from my husband. He's not a big fan of it either. There is something powerfully calming about his breathing and the feeling of his arm carelessly slung across my middle. When he isn't laying next to me something deep inside of me aches for him. I think it's my uterus...