Update

So I thought I would give my hairdryer another shot today. After all, I had some major bed head that needed serious smoothing out. And boy did it ever! It made up for lost time by coughing up air that could only be equated to lava. It was so hot, I think I burned off most of my hair, an ear, and some bristles from my round brush.

I just can't be satisfied.

My Hairdryer Blows...only cold air.

My track record with hairdryers over the last five years has not been stellar. I blame this solely on Scott. Before I met him, I had the same hairdryer for about six years. Since we have been married, I have now been through three. He takes responsibility for this with some skepticism.

Hairdryer #1

This one made me afraid for my life. With no warning or complaints from the appliance, I was shocked to have sparks flying right at my face. Maybe this was the dryers way of warning me to move it away from my flammable hair because the sparks were directly followed by a flame. Yes, a FLAME. It shot out at me and was about three to four inches long. My reflex was to drop the unit on the ground. However, it's funny how quickly your mind reacts in those moments. I thought better of it, not wanting my bathroom rug to catch on fire. So instead I kept the flaming object in my flammable hand while I unplugged it. This is not the first time I have used my supple hand to keep fiery objects from setting other flammable things aflame. While at Bath and Body Works, a incense burner caught fire. A customer calmly told me, your wall is on fire. Uh, ok. I went towards the glow while my other employee went towards the extinguisher. The burner was almost completely engulfed and I was concerned the shelving was about to go. Once again, my mind went quickly. I heal, the building does not. Not to mention the hundreds of people in the mall that were in danger. I then very dumbly picked it up by the plate it was on and set it in the tile floor. After it was over I noticed how scorched the wall and shelving was. In the end, I think I made the right decision. But I digress.

Hairdryer #2

This one I purchased in full wet head fashion about twenty minutes after the flame incident. I was proud because it was pink. Pink for breast cancer. My near death experience was not in vain, a few more dollars of research went forth. This one I had for about six months when for no reason it went on hiatus and has yet to return. The button moved, but nothing happened. I checked the outlet, made sure the little red button in the other bathroom was reset. It never again turned on. It was a pretty pink dryer, but that's about all it had going for it.

Hairdryer #3

This one was a chrome model, nice and shiny. It felt very professional. It has been in my possession for about four months. A couple months in it started making a rattling noise. But we were already past the point of no returns, so I just dealt with it. Then a few weeks ago, the temperature button didn't want to go all the way up to hot anymore, but I could still get it to blow hot air. And I just dealt with it. But alas, today was no go. It refused to expel anything more than room temperature air. This caused my normal ten minute drying session to stretch to forty five minutes. I know! The result is a very bad hair day. Flat, limp, stuck to my face hair day. I cannot deal with that.

So in the end, I will be purchasing a new model. No more Revlon, Hot Tools, or Conair. I am not sure what brands are left to choose from. Whatever I end up with, I won't expect it to run longer than two months.

I Come First

Why is it that in order to be labeled a good mom, you must be absolutely miserable without your children? I mean, I consider myself to be a perfectly good, loving mom and I feel part of what puts me into that category is that I know when I need time for myself. I can function just fine on my own, I am not handicapped without him.

Scott and I had never been on a trip by ourselves. Never. Even our honeymoon was a joint project. Hunter is now almost three and I had never been away from him for more than about six hours. And even then he was with Scott. I mean, does anyone dispute that I may need a little break?

So awhile ago, we decided to make it happen, and we ran away for a weekend. Best decision we have ever made. Well in hind sight, maybe the worst considering we could have really used the money when Scott lost his job, but that's another blog. We had so much fun, although a little strange not having to think about a schedule or hauling an extra thirty pounds in and out of the car.

Now, I am a blubberer. (yes that's a word) I cry all the time, it's a talent. So I was slightly concerned about walking away from the bubba, and overnight... don don don. Just the other night when I was headed out the door for work, I was a complete mess. And that was only for four hours! But in the end, I did very well, and I am still quite proud of myself. I didn't cry, I didn't look back. I thought about him a lot. Mostly in the context of not knowing what to do with myself. Like I forgot my phone or purse.

I came home feeling rejuvenated and fulfilled. But more importantly, why am I not doing this more often? So why is it that when people ask me how my trip was, they are completely dumbfounded? 'What? You didn't cry? You weren't longing to come home? I just couldn't do that, I am just too attached to my kids. I'd feel like I was cheating them.' So I am left feeling judged and confused. Is the definition of a good mom to put your children first and completely ignore your own needs?

I feel a good mom has the good sense to recognize when her stores are a little low and need some refilling. I can do way more for my son when I am running at 100% rather than 32% because I feel I am being selfish due to my own needs. I feel I am strongly bonded with my son, a connection I cherish. But I am not defined by motherhood. It is something I am and do and wouldn't give up for the world. I am defined by me, Nic, the light inside of me. I am important.

There have been countless studies done proving that when marriages are not attended to or when parents are stretched too thin that the children suffer. But when we take time for ourselves and put our children, dare I say, second we all flourish. I will never understand being miserable and suffering in order to prove how loving we are or how hard we work.

Fireman Hunter

A little something to hold you over until I can find the time and energy to do something about the blogs spinning around in my head.