The Things I Do For Awesome Hair

Last summer I decided to do something fun with my hair color and dye the ends purple. The ombre look was fun, even if it was a little difficult to achieve. The most common way to do an ombre color is to tease (backcomb) the hair so that when you bleach out the ends you don’t have a solid line of color change, but more of a gradual change instead.

Then after bleaching the ends, you comb out the tangled mess before applying the color. It’s not comfortable, but the first time I didn’t find it too awful. The whole process took about four hours, including an all over color on the top 3/4 of my hair, too.

So when I felt my hair was drab last week and needed a lift, I made an early morning appointment for another ombre color. I decided to go with the darker brown on top again, but thought red sounded fun for the ends of my hair.

This time wasn’t as smooth, though. I had the all over color and a color correction, although the stylist chose to do the all-over color on the ends. That part alone took over three hours – longer than I had planned. Then the backcombing began – I worried that maybe she was a little bit too overzealous with teasing my hair, as I quickly had hair that looked like I had electrocuted myself.

Beauty can look super ugly at first.

It took longer than normal to bleach out the ends, because she had just applied the top color to my hair, including the ends. It was now mid-afternoon. I was tired and hungry and really wished it was all over.

When it was time to rinse out the lightener, the worst part of the process started: combing out the tangled mess that was my hair. She really did go too far in backcombing my hair – it was locked into a giant knotted ball. It took one hour, two stylists – one working on each side of my head – and a bucket of conditioner to get my hair combed out. One hour of tugging and pulling and yanking and sharp pain and holding back tears. Near the end of it I was shaking from the pain. (I have a tender head, too, which doesn’t help.)

At that point I had been there for over six hours and wanted to go home. But I still had to get the color on my ends. I slumped in the chair, exhausted from the ordeal and hoping this would all be worth it.

Eight and a half hours after I first sat down in the chair, my hair was done. I have to admit, it looks really good. I love the ombre look – it’s subtle while at the same time being a bold, fun choice.

It looked even better after I had it styled this weekend:

(My new headshot – cute, no?)
The view from the back.

I hated the process to get hair that looks this awesome, but I have to admit I love the finished look.

I also took notes on how my hair was styled this weekend, too, so I can try to create my own gorgeous curls at home. This BlogHer TV video below shows one way to do it, creating Selena Gomez inspired body and soft curls with a wide curling iron, a comb and some hairspray.  What do you think – does it look easy enough for an amateur like me to do at home?

It looks simple enough, although the backcombing has me a little scared after what I went through last week. I may have nightmares about teasing my hair for years to come.

(PS – BlogHer and Olay are giving away $100 or more with this video – if you watch and answer the question at the end of the clip, you could be a winner!)



Twice Execeptional: Twice the Fun, Twice the Challenge

I generally get nervous when I see the elementary school’s phone number appear on our caller ID. In the past two years, I’m pretty sure they’ve only called with something positive once or twice. Generally the call is either from the school nurse, letting me know one of my children displayed her superhuman ability to be clumsy and injured herself, or Cordy’s teacher letting me know about some incident where she got in trouble or had a panic attack.

So when I received a phone call from the school recently, I didn’t answer it because I was already on the phone trying to make an appointment for Cordy with an occupational therapist. After the trouble she had earlier this school year with her anxiety at school, we set up an appointment with her pediatrician to discuss what to do. He recommended an OT he knows to help Cordy get through her anxiety. We agreed we don’t want to consider medication yet, so this is our first step towards helping her cope with her constant anxious state.

The school left a message, so I knew it had to be something important, but at least a voicemail gave me time to react and process whatever they said before I had to call them back. I played the message, and it was from the school psychologist.

He mentioned that Cordy had been doing some testing with him as part of her three-year evaluation (all kids with special needs services are evaluated every three years to make sure they still qualify) and he wanted me to call him back to set up a time to go over all of the cognitive testing he did with her. He also mentioned what an interesting and delightful child she was, so I at least knew the testing couldn’t have been a complete disaster.

I didn’t know that he had been testing Cordy. Two weeks before that, a woman from the gifted and talented department came to the school to evaluate Cordy, and days before the psychologist called we had received her results. Cordy had an impressive score on a cognitive abilities test, earning her the label “superior cognitive” on her school record. It’ll help provide more gifted ed services for her, and I was proud of the score, but it was only one test and she had a particularly good day that day.

I wondered if the psychologist’s evaluation would match up with her recent testing? We didn’t know he was testing her, so we had no way to prep her like we did for the gifted ed department’s testing.

There was no hesitation in calling him back. As soon as I said my name, the school secretary knew why I was calling and transferred me to the school psychologist. He was only supposed to set up a time to go over the results in person, but he was bursting with excitement to give me the highlights of what happened from testing her that morning.

The good news: she still qualifies for special needs services. She meets the criteria for autism (no surprise there), although he said the only presenting issues at the moment are her anxiety and her deficit in social skills. Again, no surprise.

But then came the even better news. He used multiple testing methods for her, and said she’s one of the smartest eight year olds he’s ever seen. Her IQ testing resulted in a 139, with a verbal score of 143. On one verbal abilities test, she had a perfect score. I was stunned into silence as he explained that he’s been working in elementary schools for eleven years and Cordy had the highest scores he’s ever seen.

One example he gave was in analogies: he said to her “flour is to bread like…” and she answered back with “like hydrogen is to water!” Her science vocabulary was especially impressive. (Thanks to Netflix and the full series of the quirky Beakman’s World on instant streaming – our #1 source for science lessons!)

We met yesterday and went over the full results. I’m so proud of Cordelia. He said she was enthusiastic about the testing, as if she really liked the challenge to prove what she knows, and was incredibly sweet and charming. He also started the thought in my mind that the public school may not have enough resources to fully provide for her education at the level she’s at. We’ll need to consider supplemental resources to keep her engaged and wanting to learn.

I’m trying not to brag, but it’s so fantastic for a parent to get good news about their child. And honestly, the confirmation of her cognitive skills creates several issues for me. We always knew Cordy was bright, but to get confirmation that she’s highly gifted means I need to pay closer attention to making sure she’s challenged and getting material at her level. At the same time, her anxiety really needs attention now, since it tends to flare up when she feels something is too hard. It’s a delicate balance.

Technically this makes Cordy “twice-exceptional” (also called “2e”), meaning she’s both gifted and special needs. I have a child who still can’t wear jeans because she can’t reliably work a button but can explain the meaning of the word dehydration. I found this chart on the wiki page for twice exceptional, and aside from a couple of items, it’s an eerily accurate description of my daughter.

Stubborn? Imaginative? Sensitive? Yes. Perhaps not the sophisticated sense of humor…

So now that I’m armed with this knowledge…I have no idea what to do next. She’s doing well in school, but nothing particularly outstanding. I know she’s bored on some level, but also resistant to being pushed to learn new things faster. We’re moving forward with occupational therapy in the hopes it can help her developing coping mechanisms to deal with anxiety.

She’ll be eligible for the school’s gifted classroom in fourth and fifth grades, and will continue to have limited gifted instruction until then. We can’t really consider the possibility of private school because they’re just too expensive around here. There is financial aid, but we’re in that boggy middle ground where we make too much to qualify for aid, but would be on a ramen noodle budget to pay for private school.

I’m sure there have to be resources out there for twice exceptional kids, possibly even in our community. It may be time to spend a day with Google to see what’s out there, either in enrichment activities or parent groups or any other kind of support. I was a gifted student myself, so I have some idea of how to help Cordy with that. It’s incorporating it with the autism that makes it a little harder.

All of this, of course, is nothing more than labels and changes nothing about the cheerful, quirky, loveable little girl we have. But those labels do give us more insight into why she does what she does, and can help provide the justification for arranging educational experiences that will provide the most benefit for her.

Gifted or not, autism or not, she’s still our Cordy, and we have the responsibility to do what’s best for her (and Mira), just as any parent does. But hopefully we have a better map to guide us towards what she needs going forward.

I love that kid and her sister so much. They’re exceptionally sweet and quirky, and I wouldn’t have them any other way.



That One Time I Walked In A Fashion Show At BlogHer ’12

You may have seen the reports that while I was at BlogHer ’12, I was in a fashion show.

I know, I know. Stop laughing – I’m serious!

When I was first contacted about participating in the first ever BlogHer fashion show, I almost wondered if I was being punked. Except the email was from Elisa and I know she’d never do that to me. She had noticed me discussing BlogHer fashion on Twitter – of course, I was discussing why my jeans are perfectly acceptable conference wear, since that’s how I dress in real life. My jeans are practically my brand!

I’ll admit I went through a lot of emotions on the subject. First, I was completely flattered to be asked – what an honor that my name was considered to be in such a big event! I’m not a big name blogger by any means, and fashion is not a topic I generally write about.

Another emotion was giddy. Never before in my life have I considered being in a fashion show. Ever. While some little girls dreamed of being a model, I dreamed of being an astronaut. And as I got older – and heavier – it simply wasn’t on my radar. When you’re presented with quite possibly a once-in-a-lifetime experience like this, it’s easy to quickly add it to your bucket list.

But then the fear set in. Me. On stage. Dressed up. And walking. Being on stage I can handle, even being on stage and dressed up. But add in walking or talking and I suddenly fear making a fool of myself in front of a crowd. I have lost a lot of weight, and I’m ready to celebrate that, but I’m not model perfect.

Would people make fun of me? The big girl on stage wobbling in her heels? When I was younger I was the fat, ugly girl, a message I internalized after so many others had declared it to be true.

I didn’t want fear to win this time, so I quickly accepted before I could talk myself out of it. But even in the days leading up to it, that nagging voice of low self-esteem kept filling my head with doubt. Even at the fitting it was hard to accept a compliment from anyone. And being unable to fit in the first dress I tried on just provided ammo for that little voice that I would fail. I anxiously awaited Saturday night.

Then the magic happened.

I was still feeling like an ugly ducking as I sat down for makeup just hours before the show. I joked with the Elizabeth Arden team that my usual makeup regimen was face wash and a moisturizer with sunscreen. For special occasions I’d switch to a tinted moisturizer. Rebecca Restrepo, a woman who deserves the title of world-famous makeup artist, took her time and provided tips on how to use makeup to highlight my own natural beauty. She took my own makeup habits into account and created a look that was natural and simply luminous. I glowed.

No really, I love this woman. She works magic.

Next, the Paul Mitchell team took control of my hair. My stylist asked what I’d like, and I showed her a photo of my outfit and gave her free reign to do what she thought best. The finished result was stunning.

We had to wait to get dressed, and I remember going into the bathroom and just staring at myself in the mirror.

bathroom instagram

I was beautiful. But my hair wasn’t drastically different. And my makeup wasn’t that heavy either – hell, she used a tinted moisturizer as a foundation! So with the changes being so minor, why did I feel and look like a different person?

It wasn’t until my dresser had helped me into my outfit (jeans! imagine that!) and I turned around and found myself face-to-face with a different me in the mirror that suddenly it all made sense.

All of this fuss to make me look beautiful for the runway also made me feel beautiful on the inside, and what was reflected in that mirror wasn’t just makeup, hair and clothing, but also an inner beauty and self-confidence that had been hidden for most of my life. A simple trick of prettying the facade had convinced my self-esteem that I really was beautiful now, but logic also kicked in to say look closer – it’s still the same you. You just never noticed.

We were then lined up and prepped backstage for our big moment. The nerves were still there, but they were partially mixed with excitement. I had made a last minute decision to keep my phone with me, and even though we hadn’t rehearsed it, I was going to photograph the crowd at the end of the runway. This was a blogger fashion show, right? Well, that’s what this blogger would be doing in this circumstance!

The walk was a blur. I remember taking a deep breath right before I climbed the stairs to the stage. I remember the cheering and hearing my name, although I couldn’t see out into the crowd because of the lights. I remember letting those cheers fuel my walk as I strutted to the center of the stage.

Photo credit: Mark Von Holden Photography

I remember lifting my sunglasses and giving my best surprised act – omg! look at all of you out there! how ya been? – at the end of the runway. I remember my sunglasses falling low on my nose as I tried to take a photo of the crowd (it didn’t turn out – too bright) and fumbling with my phone as I tried to get it in my coat pocket.

Showing the crowd some photo love. (photo credit: Melisa Wells)

I remember walking back towards the main stage and seeing friends in the front row, yelling and cheering me on, and then as I neared backstage seeing Kelly standing in her row of chairs and whooping as loud as she could. And as I stepped backstage, I remember thinking wait – it’s over? No! I want to go back out!

Now I had all of the confidence in the world. I was unstoppable. I sat backstage while others took their turn on the runway and couldn’t stop smiling.

And after? I felt like a new person. It was amazing. I felt beautiful. Powerful. Worthy. I happily jumped into photos with friends at the CheeseburgHer party. I even photobombed a few folks, too.

Sorry, The Next Martha, I couldn’t resist.

I didn’t want to go to bed that night, mostly because I didn’t want to wash off the makeup. I took self-portraits in my hotel room bathroom before pulling out the face wash, sad to remove this pretty face. But you know what? I still woke up beautiful. (Well, aside from the bedhead and lines on my face from the pillowcase.) Taking off the makeup didn’t remove what I had discovered the night before.

Thank you, BlogHer, Kathryn, Darlene, Sheila, 6pm.com, Elizabeth Arden, Paul Mitchell, Petsmart, all of the other fantastic blogger models, and everyone involved with the fashion show, for giving me the experience of a lifetime, and helping me find my inner beauty.

You helped this 36 year old mom, who has never in her life considered herself worth a second look, much less a fashion show walk, blossom into the swan I always wished I could be. It was there the whole time, but I couldn’t see it until now. Real beauty is feeling comfortable in your own skin, accepting who you are, and loving yourself.

(And a special thank you to two lovely women I had never met before who approached me at CheeseburgHer to tell me how fantastic I was in the fashion show. You have no idea how much your kind words meant to me!)

PS: The full video of the fashion show can be found at BlogHer.com. Elizabeth Arden has a great set of photos from the event, too.



What I’ve Been Up To This Week

It’s been a busy week for me. Aside from the normal work, kids, dog, etc., I also had a quick flight out to New York for one of those “is this really happening to me” moments.

Why? I’m now a brand ambassador for Slim-Fast for the next 4 months. I’ll be updating my progress on Losing My Hind and hosting some giveaways soon on Mommy’s Must Haves. But I’ll be sure to give you all a heads up here as well so you don’t miss out on a chance at some freebies!

Now just cross your fingers and hope that the winter storm heading our way doesn’t keep us stuck in the house all weekend. Because then I might have to resort to crafts or cooking or something to keep Cordy and Mira entertained, and we all KNOW that usually ends poorly, LOL!

Or maybe we’ll give this guy his first bath. If I can get him off the kids’ furniture.

For those of you in the storm’s path this weekend – stay warm and safe!



Not A Cover Girl, But Still Special

Locals might want to pick up a (free) copy of Columbus Parent Magazine before the end of the month. While Cordy didn’t win the cover model contest, she was one of the five finalists, which means if you get this month’s issue you’ll have the chance to see this:

Sure, they got her age wrong, but it’s exciting to see a photo of our warrior princess in print!

Hurry to get your copy before I grab every last one to give to family. (And stash several in a memory box!)

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