Last weekend the boys got haircuts. Other than the random chunks of locks I've managed to chop off this was Teebs' first official haircut, and in this amazing stroke of luck he was a quiet, well-behaved, stoic little man.
It's amazing how in a few short minutes my moppy little baby is transformed into a clean cut toddler. I miss his moppiness, but I absolutely can not resist the gaze of those sharp eyes resting underneath that perfectly formed haircut.
The loss of the mop was cathartic. The rattiness of his baby curls piled on the floor of the salon and then walking out holding the hands of two beautiful, fresh looking boys was...cathartic. I've been feeling mildly miserable with baby number 3. Not atrociously bad, not devastatingly sick, but just predictably ill enough that everyday I wake up knowing what to expect. And everyday I cross a day off of my mental calender and remind myself I am one day closer to feeling great. It wears on us all when I don't feel well, and something as simple as a transforming haircut reminds me that life changes, and I will shed this hormonal sickness like a moppy little baby at his first haircut.
Today the boys and I went to a fire station open house with my dad. And no matter how I'm feeling, seeing my boys happy always outweighs the bad.
Teebs was back to stoic Teebs, but he can't fool us, we know he loved it. Mustache and all.
It was a great day, and another reminder that this too shall pass. I won't feel bad forever. It's a fact, I won't feel bad forever.
Tom has been as patient as he can with my mood swings, nausea, and food demands. He's even taken up evening walks with us, which have been just on the verge of chilly and paired with a consistently brilliant sunset.
And with that we end another great weekend, my three patient men and me.
Read more from Jessica at bubandteebs.com