January 16

I have gotten so many comments about Lily's hair lately.

I agree - it is pretty noticeable. She actually has tri-level hair that tapers into something that could be called a mohawk, which is interesting. 

The shortest level is what used to be her bald spot, which is slowly filling back in.

The middle level is her new hair that replaced her baby hair, all around the sides of her head. The new hair is growing in the color of deep honey.

The longest level is her birth hair, which remains solely on her forehead and on top of her head. This hair is long, dark, and what garners all of the comments. It is what I lovingly referred to as "a small aquatic creature" a few days ago.

Mostly, the comments I get go like this:

"Wow! That hair!"

I then feel compelled to somehow acknowledge that I am aware that it is strange, that I don't have Mommy-goggles on that prevent me from seeing the reality of my child's hair.

Normally, I say apologetically, "I know, it's ridiculous. I suppose if I were a better Mommy or if I cared more, I'd put it in a bow or a clip or something. I just leave it like this because it makes me laugh."

But really, why should I be apologetic about my daughter's hair?  

It's fabulous!

She rocks it.

The checker at Trader Joe's last week had a great point. She said, "You have three little ones. If you're not laughing, you're crying. Why not laugh?"

I like that perspective, and from now on I am choosing to laugh.

I'm laughing about Lily's hair.

I'm laughing about Caleb peeing in the toilet.

I'm laughing about the sorry state of my floors.

I'm laughing about changing poopy diapers in my lap in the passenger seat of my car.

I'm laughing about babies who refuse to nap because I must be so darn entertaining.

I'm laughing because I'm too tired to remember what else to do.