The Hair Bow Mafia

I’ve mentioned before about being an honorary member of the young mommy mafia. There are divisions in the young mommy mafia and today I would like to share with you one of the organizations within the organization. So if you have a daughter or if you are expecting one, today I will tell you about the infamous hair bow mafia. If you weren’t born into this family, you may need this primer to assist you with the techniques.

Here are a few things you have to know about the hair bow mafia:

• You need to have a child that will cooperate with the placing of large bows on head.
• You need to have a child that has a head large enough to balance said bow on head.
• It looks best if your child has hair. Have no fear! I can help you even if your child doesn’t have hair.
• You might need to be willing to spank your child if she pulls the bow out of her hair.
• You need to understand color matching. A handy dandy color wheel might be helpful.
• You need to understand head to bow ratio. Some choose not to adhere to this rule and these people are usually the “boss” of the hair bow mafia.
• You need to understand how to properly organize the hair bows. Hair bow mafia members never have their child sportin’ crushed grosgrain.
  

And now I will share some pictures to serve as a handy dandy reference manual:

Picture One: Big Bow Perfection. By the size of the bow you can tell that I was a "boss" in the hair bow mafia. In this picture all the above rules are being followed in accordance to the guidelines of the hair bow mafia's official reference manual which you will never be able to find on the real live internet. (I'm breaking all sorts of rules with the publishing of these here materials.)

I quickly became a member of the hair bow mafia when I gave birth to the Medium Nanny. She had a full head of hair and I was going to christen that package of almost black hair with the biggest pink hair bow I could find. My SIL suggested that I try one of those new baby headbands (it was 1990 people and they were on trend) and I smugly told her that my baby would not be a needin' one of those because those were for bald babies. My baby wasn't bald. She had plenty of hair for bow attachment. No headbands for my baby. End.of.story.

Until...

The year was 1997 and I was expecting my Lil'Nanny. I quickly made tons of pink clothing purchases, and I even found the secret bow warehouse at Coolsprings. Yes, this is a real place. I purchased all the essential colors in a nice medium size. My baby would have tons of hair and she would wear bows of an appropriate size to showcase her full head of hair. Yep, I had a plan.

And then she was born...

Meet my not so big haired baby

Picture Two: One Month Old-this is a picture of my Lil'Nanny with the most pitiful bow on her head. I took her to church with one of those brain musher bows on her head. I like to call this picture Big Nanny Eating Humble Pie.

(Please don't make fun of my baby. She had horrible eczema all winter long and it was not her fault that she looked like a boy.
Don't try and tell me that she looks like a girl. Place your finger over that bow and then try to tell me that.)

Picture 3: Lil'Nanny at 6 months. I finally found a headband with a large bow. This would be the appropriate solution if you have a bald baby girl. Was this necessary? Absolutely. Every time I took this baby to the BILO everyone that shopped in that store told me how cute he was. We all know that the Lil'Nanny now has a fabulous head of hair and if you didn't know that...she will be glad to tell you. She would also tell you that when she turns thirteen she will be painting a big ol' box of highlights on that head of hers. Tonight I caught her doing a hair commercial in the mirror. I'm.not.kidding. And although I do have several pictures of her sportin' a big, fat Minnie Mouse bow on her head, she never owned it. It was never her style. Having this girl got me kicked out of the hair bow mafia.

Now I will show you some children that are not my own. These children have mothers who are current card carrying members of the hair bow mafia.

Picture 4: LizaBelle. Has a great head of hair and perfect head to bow ratio. Color of bow contrasted with the dark hair. Excellent choice.

Picture 5: Sophie. Do you see the size of that bow? Her mother is a "boss" in the hair bow mafia. No doubt about it. The brown and pink color combo is always a hit.

Picture 6: Caroline. Her mother is in the hair bow mafia training program. She received her essential training tools this past Sunday, bows in various sizes and some fancy bow holders.

Stay tuned! Next time I'll share about another organization within the organization: The Baby Shower Mafia.

Happy Grandparent's Day

Celebrating 18 years of being Mamaw & Papaw

Papaw holding Andrea for the first time.

Mamaw holding Andrea for the first time. She was a little excited.

Please notice the gowns they are wearing. This was way back in the day when hospitals were a little more sterile and had special visiting hours. And a little less infection.

Oh, she's so sassy!

A good kind of sassy. Not a bratty child kind of sassy. I heart Sarah Palin. I think she is my new fake BFF.

A few observations from tonight's speech:

• She made a cooking joke. That's my kind of funny.



• She is wearing heels, pearls and a great jacket. Perfect and appropriate attire for such an event.



• Nothing says powerful like a gun shootin' woman who is a member of the NRA. This is inspiring. I think I'm going to take a gun safety class and get a permit to carry. Everyone else is packing heat at TSC...why not me?



• She made an eBay joke too. Good stuff.



• That 7 year old daughter knows how to work a crowd. She's got her wave and her smile down pat.



• A joke about hockey moms and lipstick. I know she didn't write her own speech, but she knows how to deliver.



• Her lipstick color is a good solid neutral. If someone has any connections and can find out the color for me, please let me know. I'm always looking for the perfect color for everyday.
  

And now I need to address another woman that's been hanging out at the RNC. Cindy McCain. Dear sweet Cindy...you need to tone it down a notch. I can't find a picture of the green number you wore last night but this was what you chose earlier this week... this dress and the one you wore last night screams: John gave me his Dillard's credit card so I could get me some new dresses to wear to the convention. He said make me look good baby so I spent all last Saturday shopping for just the right thing. And when I get to the white house I am so changing that china pattern!

Cindy-let's just tone it down a notch. I have always loved a good bold color, but tonight I have hopes that you'll wear some taupe or maybe a charcoal gray. I'm counting on you to bring it home with something good tonight. Let's just remember the RNC is not the same thing as fashion week in New York.

Wordless Wednesday

fyi-this is my sister. She was in desperate need of a color job and I refused to take part in her drug store coloring debacle. So LM said he would pull all that hair through a cap and to this day she says this was one of her best highlight jobs.

Why did the turtle cross the road?

This turtle should be thankful.

I, however, am not thankful for this turtle. This turtle was saved by the one and only Lawnmower Man. In the words of Lawnmower Man, "the turtle darted into the street." Exact words: The turtle "darted" into the street. Lawnmower Man picked him up and carried him to the pond in our neighbor's backyard. I'm not really sure why we have an abundance of turtles in our street, but we do. I have saved several myself. If I don't pick them up they cause traffic jams in front of my house. I don't pick them up with my bare hands, I use a shovel to carry them to the pond. In the past this has not been a big deal. We are just doing our part to save the planet by saving turtles. But today, the turtle caused some problems...

I received a text message this morning from Lawnmower Man that read:

I have a broken L foot.

I wasn't surprised because on Thursday, Lawnmower Man called and told me that he broke his big toe. He was mowing the lawn , his foot fell in a hole, twisted and his toe bent backwards. I assumed that he went to the doctor today and found out that his broken toe was worse than he thought and was a broken foot. NO, that would be wrong. I called him and he said that his big right toe was broken but today he broke his left foot helping a turtle cross the road. On the way back from the pond....he didn't see a hole and again, broken appendage. It's a broken ankle to be exact.

I think we all know what this means...

1) Lawnmower Man can no longer go outside when I'm not home.

2) If Lawnmower Man can't mow the yard...this means...heaven help us...Big Nanny is about to become...Lawnmower Woman.

3) Lawnmower Man wants a bell so he can summon me for drink refills. If anyone gives him a bell...I will personally run over you with my lawnmower.

You might wonder why LM took a picture of the turtle. He thinks I've been a little short on blog material lately and likes to help me out with potential blog stories.