What moms will do...

Upon waking a few weeks ago, I stood before the mirror as two children yelled from the living room, a dispute well beyond my barely risen brain's ability to decipher, and another child clung desperately to my legs wailing "milk-uh, milk-UUUHHH," only to realize the basket full of curling, teasing, taming, volumizing, straightening gadgets and goo's where useless with out more time than I could find in a week, and a world of hairstyling knowledge I could at best only hope to pay someone for. Not to mention the shower that would likely not come until that evening. Yes, I was forced to admit, "I am a pony-tail mom."

So I called my dear sister, who had come to quite a similar discovery, and in pure mommy "you did what?!" insanity, we grabbed the first set of appointments available, loaded all five kids in the van and drove off with no more concern than mothers headed to the park.



Armed with two strollers, a baby sling, a bag of grapes, a bag of cheerios, a bag of Kix, a package of gold fish and two different juice options, the children and I attacked the sidewalks of the shopping center while Julia was relieved of her fashionably flabby tail. As the last of her locks were chopped, and the cheerios had lost their charm, I was forced to raise the white flag as the ominous clouds overhead began to wield their power over the sidewalk strollers below.

But before I could lament my return to the land of rubber-banded hair, two gallant fathers raced from work to rescue us from being soggy salon invaders and I too was allowed the privilege of enjoying my curling brush again. (As well as the much needed break from the kids!)

Not the best pictures of the styles, but enough to document the lack of pony-tails!