So you’ve just invited my family to a party

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Hi friend!  Did you just invite my family to a party!  Did you send me a facebook invitation to your holiday soiree and when I followed up with, “Can my kids come?  It’s okay if they can’t.  Actually, I would prefer it if you said no right at this very moment,” and you were very eager to respond with, “Oh bring the kids!”

I should tell you some things.  We don’t go to many parties together and if we do, we don’t stay long.  Not like the kid-free days when we laughed long into the night, repeating the funny stories we share only at parties.  It’s not that I don’t love being around other adults, but with kids, there’s always an expiration date, a shelf life to our time out in public.

Before we entered your house, we spent some time in the car talking about rules, who you are, how we know you.  I apologize in advance if my kids address you like you are a roommate behind on rent but instead of paying for utilities you just brought home a Mama Celeste and thought you were good even though that is very low on the frozen pizza hierarchy.

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My kids will storm through your house because your house is new to them and way more interesting than ours.  You do not have fish decorations everywhere because your husband/spouse/partner/roommate wants to live like an adult and not on the set of Finding Nemo.  You have very cool framed posters and decorations that haven’t been glued together again because someone didn’t listen the first time when mommy yelled, “NO RUNNING!”

Please don’t mind me as I hover over my boys and motion to areas where they can’t be and where they can, the ratio is 10:1.  If you have any cardboard boxes you need flattened by kids’ stomps, please set them out as an activity.  If you have any feral animals in your neighborhood that have been waiting to be challenged by humans, let me know.  My kids have all their shots and this would be a good way to get the wiggles out!

I hope there isn’t a dress code. My oldest son will likely be wearing two separate pajamas sets, one from Mario Bros and the other from Skylanders.  They will likely be very tight because they probably belong to his four-year-old brother.  There will be a lot of exposed belly. But!  He will be wearing his dress shoes meant for Catholic mass because NO ONE LISTENS TO ME.  My husband will either be in a suit and tie or Bite of Seattle 2002 sweatshirt.  I cannot control this.  Please see above.

I will find a seat next to my husband and sit in a weird way because I just noticed a hole in my tights, usually these rips and runs start in the no-no spot and I don’t want people to trace that line to any part that I’m still trying to reduce at the gym.  How do you work out your no-no spot Jillian Michaels!?  How?!

My son will yell, “I’m having a bad time!” then he will find another child his age and come back with, “This is a great party!”  My other son will come in, mumble and belly dance then disappear.  My husband will talk about football with someone who popped up on his radar as a Seahawks fan.

We will leave earlier than the couples without children.  We will leave once the kids start sweating and unraveling into savage beasts.  I’m pretty good at telling if this is the early stages of beastdom–the whining, the “when are we leavinnnnnng” that can’t be shushed with a harsh look or a Vulcan mind meld.

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Then on the ride home, my sons will say how much fun they had, my husband will remark what great people you are, how we should get together more, maybe for the SuperBowl!  And worrying about my kids or appropriateness of my husband or my bad jokes, we really did have a great time.  My kids met other children, my husband said something very sweet about me to other couples and I was happy to be out with the most important people in my life.  Thanks for the invite, friend.

 

 

My kid’s first haircut at Gene Juarez

Gene Juarez is really well known here in the Pacific Northwest. When I was in college, I splurged on a cut and full color and when people would ask where I had my hair done, I yelled, “GENE JUAREZ!” the way I do now whenever the cashier asks if it’ll be credit or debit. “OH IT’LL BE DEBIIIIIIIIT!” Then I do a dance because I had enough liquid funds to buy chewing gum and a Bud Light Mango-rita.

So when I was offered to try out a kid’s haircut at one of the Gene Juarez locations, I thought immediately of my Nathan and said yes right away. He has the best hair of any of us: thick and luscious with gorgeous golden glints, the kind that I wish I had but only can look at fondly because I managed to birth something so beautiful.

The Seattle location at the University Village is gorgeous and sleek, a place I wouldn’t think of bringing my son because he is a young boy who talks about the fart society and how they are recruiting members.  When we arrived, we were already having a frazzled morning but everyone was nice to us, even the beautiful lady who held the door open for us while my kids took forever to waddle in. I had meant to leave my four-year-old at home but the child doth protest too much and the mother was too weak-willed to say no. This left my older kid in. a. mood.

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His stylist Stella was super sweet, despite this kid not saying a word or cracking a smile. I tried to explain that he didn’t want his brother there, he was a little hungry and the well of an eight-year-old’s emotions run so deeeeeep.

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She smiled and patiently talked to Nathan about what he wanted. Because he took a vow of silence and joined some grumpy kid monkhood, she and I talked about what cleaning up the sides but leaving it long on top.

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I think Stella should be named Saint because she was exactly that to my son–friendly and attentive.  Performing the miracles of making his hair look gorgeous despite someone acting like I had sent him to prison. A fancy prison where inmates are offered water and coffee and robes and get their hair washed.

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Look at how terrible his life is!  What an existence!

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The whole process lasted less than an hour, which included my grabbing the four-year-old before ran into the other nice people. A quick haircut that made my handsome little boy even more dashing. I thanked Stella profusely for being so patient and attentive despite my eight-year-old being not elated to receive a free hair cut in such a nice place.

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He finally smiled once we left. “I was shy,” he explained. Oh my son.

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I would definitely take my kids there (both of them!) another time. I wasn’t rushed or punished for bringing these feral creatures and everyone seemed intent on giving us a great experience and my firstborn a great new look. To schedule an appointment for your child (and you!) call 425.373.3700.
I received a free haircut for my son in exchange for a review. This review is 100% my own opinion.

 

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