On Black Diamonds and Moguls

Our girls have just taken off with the skiing this year.   It's been a lot of fun.  Clara is the more adventurous, wanting to put black diamond notches in her belt, and enjoying the bumps with Daddy.

She was very excited to ski Angel Street, which is one of the steeper blacks at Loon.  We waited until a morning when there was a few fresh inches of powder.  She went right down it with no problems.

We got to the bottom of the lift, and with a big grin she said to me, "Mom, I didn't know there was a feeling better than birthday cake."

"What's that, Clara?"

"Feeling proud of myself!"

Clara Punk Rocker

Tired of nagging about hair brushing and tired of the tears over tangles, I put down my foot and told Clara we were cutting her hair.  She had had plenty of warnings while she was growing it longer (just so you don't think I'm a mean mom).  So I took her in and Maureen, my wonderful haircutter, cut it all off.  She must have spent forty-five minutes cutting it.  I guess really straight hair is really hard to cut short.

Well, I thought it looked fantastic.  When we walked out to the car, Lee said to Clara, "You look weird."  Thanks, Lee.  That's the sibling support I need.

Clara got a lot of positive comments.  She got tired of the comments but seemed to adjust to the new hair.  And honestly the tangles aren't an issue anymore.  There's just not enough hair to get tangled.

The brushing, however, is still a problem.   This is how she looks most mornings now, and yes, I still need to nag.  Secretly, I think the punk look suits her.