Izzy Turned Five Like 20 Days Ago

My baby's not really a baby anymore. Well she kinda is. But she is five and we are staring down kindergarten right in the face.

So we had a little party. And invited her whole class.

And it was super fun, but really crazy.

And this is the only picture I got of the whole darn thing.

I had a bad vertigo attack that set in about an hour before the party and culminated into me passing out later in the evening.

So you can imagine. I don't know how I got through the entire thing. A higher power stepped in. That's all I can say.

But 8 physical therapy sessions and I am back to new. Not that this is about me.

Izzy turned five! And her friends came out to celebrate.

The cake was so precious. It was painful to cut into. A Belle for a Belle. So sweet!

And she got so many fun presents that we could barely carry them all.

Izzy's bestie gave her a scooter. She lives on that thing. We love it because it promotes exercise.

And I also LOVE it because she uses it as another device to torture the dog. Which is good because it helps remind him that he's not human, which makes life easier for all of us.

Darn chihuahua. Trust me when I say peeps, he may think he's tortured but he's not. I want his life.

But main thing I want to let everyone know is how blessed I am to have this little beauty. She and I may fight but I love this little girl so much. She reminds me of the good in this world when I am down. She has qualities that I wish I had but don't (like being so outgoing that there is no shame involved). So I get to enjoy them in her which is another blessing for me. Being her parent makes me a better person and I cherish her for it.

Isabelly Gracie Burkie I love you :)

My Life Is Traumatic

Seriously peeps. It really doesn't get worse than this.

I am traumatized for life.

I made the worst decision EVER. I practiced extremely poor judgement and made a choice that I will have to live with for the next two-three years.

I sat down in a chair of a girl that had been out of beauty school for a whopping four months. And said I wanted something different with my hair.

And she proceeded to put it into a pony tail and chop it off. All of it.

There are parts of my hair that are maybe an inch long. Maybe.

She had to pull out clippers and man shave my neck. I couldn't believe it. I have a man haircut.

I almost died.

I wanted to die.

I couldn't even look up. I sat there for three hours and looked at my lap, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

As I dug my nails into my hands, I just repeated "hair grows back" over and over until I could breathe without making a conscious attempt.

It was a painful experience.

My little Jhanna was with me. And when it was finally over, I asked her if she liked it.

Her response? "It's ok. Well, it's kinda ok."

If you can't please a four year old, who can you please?

When the stylist asked if I liked it, I just kept repeating that it was different. And she finally said, "Different isn't always good in our business."

You don't say?!?!?!?!?!??!!??!!?!?

In all fairness, it is an even, well done haircut. Just not for me.

I am almost thirty years old and I have never had a hair style. I have had long curly hair ever since I can remember.

And now my hair requires an hour of work each day. It has to be blow dried and then straightened. And then it only lasts until 11 when I do pilates. After that, its over and I spend the rest of the day looking like a fruit cake. Seriously.

I felt like my sister needed a pick-me-up so I texted her a picture of my current hair when wet.

Are you reading this peeps? A picture of hair makes other people feel better by bringing them to laughter. I can't handle this.

When I drove home that day, I to myself that I was going to spend the rest of the night in the basement.

You can imagine my horror when I pulled in and my brother-in-law's car was in the driveway. Oh M Ba Gee GEE. I was SCREAMING INSIDE OF MY HEAD.

Luckily he was on the roof, so I greeted him by standing under the awning of the house. I watched his feet as they moved over and over, I could tell he was trying to find me. So I would move closer and closer to the house until I was practically making out with the garage door. And then I saw his knees bend and I knew it was over.

He said, "Did you chop off your hair?"

WHY ME?????
But he said he liked. Obviously just being nice. But still I felt a little better.

Here comes the ironic part peeps. Just last week, Chasey told me that my long, curly hair was one of his favorite features and he made me promise not to ever cut it.

I knew he was going to take it was some kind of passive agressive move proclaiming that no one controls me.

And the first thing out his mouth when he saw the picture I texted him hours before I knew he would get it so I wouldn't chicken out? "Didn't we just talk about this?"

Like I said, TRAUMATIC.

The rest of my day didn't go well. I couldn't even smile. Chasey tried to tell me a funny story that I should have laughed at. And I couldn't. Even though he is a funny guy.

Later in our conversation, as I was literally weeping, I compared myself to a messed up Shirley Temple, Chasey told me that he loved my haircut. He is sweet like that.

Well if you are still with me, which I highly doubt, you are probably wondering what the hello I look like.

And I really wasn't going to post a picture but I hate it when people tell long, semi-complicated stories and don't provide any visual backup.

So here goes nothing...

I had to force myself to smile.

We've Left The Country

Just kidding. It only feels that way now that we live out in the sticks.

We moved! To Chuck's house!

We had an opportunity to sell our house and so we decided to take it. The couple that is interested in our home won't be using traditional financing so it is going to take a little longer to dot all the i's and cross the t's. But they needed to rent it until they get everything else worked out. So we had to move.

Isabelle has been telling people that we moved in with Grandpa because he needs us.

Trust me when I say, he needs us like he needs a hole in the head.

But he graciously accepted our offer of letting us live rent free for an undetermined amount of time.

So it's working out well (for us).

My little brother is kind of at the end of his rope. And it's only day four. I don't think he is quite used to the level of excitement a two year old and a four year old bring to his lifestyle.

For example, he is finding it rather difficult to sleep in until 2 in the afternoon. Mainly because the girls enjoy jumping on his bed to wake him up at 7 a.m. And they couldn't care less about him rolling into the house at 2 in the morning.

If this won't be a motivator to send him back to school this September, I don't know what will.

Yesterday he asked me if I thought Cambri would ever "be under control."

I pretended to be shocked. I mean, HELLO, she is the best behaved two year old that ever lived.

Compared to my other child at two that is.

So I will keep you updated on our progress. It's bound to be an eventful journey.

And when Chuckie gets tired of us, can we move in with you?