Well, Let Me Go Get My Time Machine

Last night at dinner we were all discussing the fact that Natalie and Brandon both have birthdays next month when Brandon turned to me and said, "Mom, your birthday is really far away."

I replied, "Yup, August is a pretty far away."

Brandon looked at me and said, "Well, you should get in your car and drive there then. And I will bring you a Toy Story cake for your party."

Well, thank you, Brandon. Why didn't I think of that? I'll just go get in my time-traveling car and drive to my birthday. I didn't have the heart to tell him that if I had a time machine I definitely wouldn't be driving it anywhere that made me older.

I Didn't Even Know What I Was Missing

I've been hearing wonderful things about Etsy for years now, and I've been trying as hard as my little online-shopping-loving heart would let me to avoid it. Why did I need one more website to add to all my usual virtual haunts? Unfortunately, I've become mildly obsessed with admiring cute clutches and handbags lately, and I've spent several months admiring one friend's ruffled handbag in particular. My online shopping addiction and my yearning for a ruffled purse of my own collided one cold, depressing afternoon in early February when I ran out of websites to look at and the idea of searching for a ruffled purse on Etsy popped into my head. Let me tell you, folks, that I don't believe my life will ever be the same.

Here's a little shop I found, called Davie & Chiyo:

And here's what I bought:

And it wasn't even ruffled. But this one is, and I think I might have to have one of these next:

Insert sigh of contentment. I really hope Spring comes soon or Visa is going to love me.

How's My Hair?

November? Really? That's the last time I blogged? November was, like, four months ago! In the last four months not a single thing has happened that inspired me to set aside a few moments of time for blogging. You'll be ecstatic to read, my dear followers, that something of import has finally happened. Not birthdays or Christmas or visitors or even snowmen. Wait for it...

Kyle has refused to let us buzz his hair and has asked us to allow him to grow it out. Because he wants to spike it in the front. With hair gel. That's right, hair gel.

My little boy has suddenly turned into a regular boy with hairstyling preferences.

Some one should have warned me that six-year-old boys care about their hair. I was completely unprepared for this development. What's next? A girlfriend? Comments along the lines of, "You're not wearing that to take me to school are you, Mom?" Acne? Wait... he's going to stop kissing me goodbye in the mornings, isn't he?!