For those of you following my weight loss journey, here's an updated picture. I had to get all dressed up for a banquet last week and Loving Hubby took a picture before we went. I don't usually dress like that! *grin*

It's bad enough that the kid is in HIGH SCHOOL, but now she's going out on dates, too? This is her right before the homecoming coronation/dance. On the up side, I like the young man. Very nice and respectful.

I just wish she wasn't getting older. What happened to the little girl who wanted to build her house in the backyard so she wouldn't ever have to move away?

My husband has ringworm.

Ok, not really, but that’s what he’s claiming.

Let me explain.

My husband and I are very different. He’s a country boy and I’m a city girl. His ideas of necessities include bullets, beef, and beans. My list is more practical and includes haircuts, oil changes, and trips to the bookstore. My husband is a “we’ll make it work” kind of guy and I’m a “if I can’t do it right the first time, what’s the point” kind of gal.

Makes for interesting viewpoints around the house.

Well, hubby decided that his hair was a bit long. In the past he’s asked me to cut his hair, and I’ve politely turned him down — usually by pretending not to hear him ask or by suddenly remembering an errand I needed to run. He’s even purchased one of those Wal-Mart clipper things with all the fancy attachments in an attempt to persuade me.

And every few weeks, my loving, persistent husband would ask. Taking his cue from our teenage daughter, yesterday he had finally asked so often that I agreed.

I really thought, how hard can this be? He only wants a trim, right? And this razor thing is supposed to be foolproof — at least that’s what the picture on the box said.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. There’s a reason people go to school to learn to cut hair. My husband is now living proof of that reason.

We put a towel on the floor to catch the clippings, hubby sat in a chair and I got started. The buzz of the clippers sounded and I lowered it to his head.

Do you have any idea how dumb a 40-year-old man looks in a reverse Mohawk? I do now.

My first thought was “I can’t believe he talked me into this.” Followed shortly by “Maybe I can still even it out.” I still can’t believe he talked me into it and yes, at that point it could have been evened out.

But I didn’t stop there. It would have been better if I had.

I got the top of the man’s head evened out and started working on the back. OK, truth be told, it had some mullet-type qualities (think “Dog, the Bounty Hunter), but a fashion guru my Texan-born and bred husband is not. I was pretty sure he didn’t know what a mullet was, let alone what it looked like. I started on the back, trying to calm the mullet-like qualities of the butcher job… I mean, haircut.

Finally, I was finished with the big stuff. His hair wasn’t perfect, but it was cut.
I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen in public with him and our teenage daughter wouldn’t be any more embarrassed by dad.

Then I noticed that one stray hair.

“One little clip,” I thought, “then it will be over.”

There must have been some Earth tremor right at the moment I lowered the clippers. The next thing I knew there was a clipper-sized chuck of hair falling to the ground from about an inch above his ear.

I was shocked. Short of shaving it all off, this one couldn’t be hidden.
I had a momentary thought that maybe he wouldn’t notice. It is on the side of his head and my husband isn’t always the most perceptive person.
I told him I was done — in more ways than one! — and he sauntered into the bathroom to take a look at my handiwork. All my delusions came shattering down when he yelled. Profanities. Loudly.

He’d seen the side of his head.

So, rather then admit he pestered me into giving him a haircut, he’s claiming ringworm. In his mind that’s a better explanation. He also claims to be cured.

Maybe that means he’s been cured of his pestering.

Somehow, though, I doubt it.

It's been a week now, and every day the kiddo is excited to go to school. Every day she tells me tales on the way home -- tells me of the adventure she had that day. She's told her friends that she loves school. A subject that she had always disliked is now one of her favorites.

I'm happy for her, but sad for myself. I wonder if she would have always loved that subject had I not home educated her for the past eight years. Or did I just instill a love of learning that she wouldn't have gotten in a traditional classroom? That was one of my biggest goals, you know... to teach her to love learning.

Here's something to point out: That graph at the top of the page is more then half way across! That meas I'm on the "downhill side" of my weight loss journey! Kinda cool, huh?

For the second day in a row, I've watched my baby leave the house to be "thrown to the wolves." (OK, maybe not literally, but still....) My little girl has started high school!!!

After years of celebrating "Not Back To School Day," it was a little weird to be checking to make sure she had all her supplies. And the house was so quiet! I don't think I'll ever look forward to the day summer ends. I'll never understand those parents who can't wait for the kids to be back in school.

So yesterday morning, I made her stand there so I could get a picture. And yes, she reminded me that parents only do that when their kids start kindergarten. But, hey, I gave birth to her, so that affords me some rights, doesn't it? *big grin*

My life will never be the same. Neither will the lives of all those teachers, administrators, and students who she comes in contact with. But at least I know I gave her a strong foundation to build from.