Luckily I remembered that she had her eye appointment, so I made plans for the big kids to be watched by their grandmother while I took Beth to have her eye pressure gauged.
Beth slept on.
I decided Keith was in dire need of a hair cut, and being the impatient person that I am, decided to go ahead and do it myself.
He now hates me.
Honestly, it isn't my favorite haircut for him. I like the top a lot longer, and so does he. But I couldn't bear to see him sweating so much beneath that rug of hair he keeps on top of his head. It is so thick, there was no room for him to cool off. And yet somehow he still managed to burn his scalp when we were at Bear Lake. Go figure.
After an epic battle, profuse begging and finally pulling the mean mom card, I eventually got his hair cut. I only messed up in one spot, behind his ear, because he had to jerk his head away while I was trying to trim it. When I finally finished, he rushed to the mirror and stood still, looking at himself. His face was red from the sunburn and swollen from the crying and screaming he had been doing. He was all sweaty from fighting to get away, and so was covered in an itchy layer of hair. Before he looked in the mirror he had decided to hate it, but seeing it in that light, I can't say that I blame him. Not that it looked bad, because it doesn't. But when my face is blotchy from screaming and crying, and when I am covered in hair and feel that awful, I become obstinate and disagreeable about everything. Even things I normally like. I am sure that is how he felt. After gazing at his reflection for a few moments, he let out a wail and ran into the living room, flinging himself onto the couch.
"I hate it. I look so uuuuuuuggggggglllllllyyyyyyyy! I don't look like myself. I look like someone else. Someone ugly!" He howled. I tried to comfort him, but he would not be comforted. And so I gave up. I offered him a hat, which he accepted grudgingly, and then it was time to wake up the baby (who miraculously slept through the kerfuffle, and we headed out for the doctor. (Keith refused to let me take a picture of it.)
Beth was an absolute angel at the doctor's office. She charmed the socks off everyone with her waving and "Hiiiii." She grinned and tried to walk, and made everyone smile and laugh at her happy nature.
After the doctor told me her eyes look great, the pressure is great and that we can wait another few months before a return visit, we met my family at Chili's for adult visit time. Beth was the only child privliged enough to come.
Once again, Beth shocked me. I ordered a bowl of macaroni and cheese for her, intending to share it with her, and she ate the whole thing! I scooped it onto a plate for her and she happily grabbed handfuls of noodles and slurped them up. She waved a sticky yellow hand at all the servers as they passed and kept us thoroughly entertained throughout our visit.
But when I got home from all of this traveling about, I learned a sad truth. My burn is not quite healed and I think I over did it. My legs and feet are incredibly swollen. I asked Uncle Google what the problem is and apparently I have a second degree burn. Yikes! And so, I have spent the rest of the evening cuddling my children with my feet up, sending positive energy and commands down to my feet to stop swelling. I fed Beth and when she finished eating, she curled up on my chest, giving me a big hug and closed her eyes. It was the sweetest thing ever! I stroked her hair, hummed her lullaby, and then put her in her bed. After, I went back to putting my feet up when Faye began to call me from her room. She watched Toy Story 3 today and it scared her. She was crying. So she came and joined me on my bed, cuddling with me until she, too, fell asleep.
I love when bedtime can be so sweet. I know they wont always want to cuddle with me, so I embrace it as much as I can now.