"...then I got my hair did. I felt like a million bucks, but then it rained. Can't catch a break, but I'm gonna be okay...Feel good. I wanna feel good. Watch me shake it off, shake it off...today's a better day." --Che'nelle, "Feel Good"
I can't listen to the song mentioned above without smiling. I had the music video from youtube on my blog a couple of weeks ago. I really hate putting videos on here because they sometimes take a long time to load, and I find them annoying. But I simply can't resist that song. It plays on our CD at work, and even if I am in a positively craptastic mood, the line above always makes me smile.
Munchkin started second grade last week. This is the first year that I didn't cry on her first day. I think that shows incredible progress on my part. Plus, she's at the age where a sobbing mommy is simply not kosher. Instead, we sat in my car at the bus stop and blasted Justin Bieber at top volume. I felt like the coolest mom ever. I'm not sure how I feel about her teacher yet. I realize that at some point, teachers will no longer send home intricate details about what is going on in the classroom, but I expected that somewhere along the lines of middle school. I didn't think that there was that much difference between first grade and second grade. My kid is still losing her teeth for crying out loud; is it so bad that I want to know what she is learning at school? By the time she has gotten home at 6 o'clock, she can't remember what she had for lunch. Oh, and the bus was 15 minutes early this morning. We are the first stop, so it goes without saying that I was irked to realize that it had come and gone by the time we went out to watch for it. The poor principal is the one who had to hear me vent about it when I dropped Kylie off in the car rider line. This is the same man who comforted me on her first day of kindergarten as I wiped snot on my now-ex's sleeve. Can he never catch me on a good day? I don't want to turn into that mom. You know, the crazy one.
I also made a big change for myself. I marched into the salon last week and demanded that I become a brunette/redhead. I have been blonde for as many years as I can remember. When my stylist pulled out a color swatch and matched it to my natural color, I couldn't believe it was really that dark! I'm still a little surprised every time I look in the mirror. My own assistant didn't recognize me when I came to work over the weekend. It's amazing how a hair color can completely change the way you feel. The red makes me feel dangerous, vixen-ish. I think there's a little bit of bad girl in there somewhere, and I'm going to find her. Or not. I'm content with people just thinking that I'm bad.
You Can BE Awesome EVERY DAY
1 hour ago