The Solution

I don't know why it took me so long to realize that there was an easy solution to Jimmy's hair dilemma.

Other sights seen on our Banff getaway:

And we tracked this guy around town for a half an hour:

It was a lovely time, as you can see.

Shelby

Hair: The Long and Shaggy of it

I said it was coming, and after a long and arduous scouring of the archives, I've gathered enough evidence upon which you can base your votes.  Above is Jimmy's current hair style.  It's driving me nuts, mostly because it's not really a style at all, but rather hair that has been left un-cut for several months.  Hair which he vows he will not cut until the bébé is born.  That's another five weeks, people!  And TBH, I don't think he will cut it after the bundle arrives.  Why?  Because I am his hairdresser, and I only know two styles: buzz cut and buzz cut with a mohawk stripe, both of which he loves, of course.  But he is adamant that long hair is where it's at right now.  I don't do long hair, and he won't go to a proper hair dresser, which is why I have concluded that mop is going to be around for much longer than five weeks.
Especially since he discovered yesterday that if he combs it a certain way it's starting to look like his favourite movie villain of all time.

Why anyone would aspire to look like this, I don't know.  I told Jimmy it was the worst hair ever, and he said "No it's not!", only to be proven wrong by a quick Google search for worst movie hair of all time.

If it's long hair he wants, and Javier his muse, why not go for this?

Or this?

Clearly I need help in convincing my mule of a husband that his hair is in need of attention, so browse below and leave your votes via comment box. I'm desperate, and he may listen to his public before he will listen to me!

First up the short cuts, all of which are my handiwork.  I missed my calling, I know. 

Look 1: Buzz Cut

Look 2: Buzz cut with mohawk stripe

Mohawk stripes again!

Now to the medium length looks.  These were done by an actual professional.

He actually asked for a mullet.  I kid you not.

Length that is tamed.  Not so for the BBQ sauce.

Wedding day spikes.

Another mullet-like look, albeit better than the first one.

I think one of Jimmy's biggest problems with his hair is that it is very thick and must be cut often to maintain a style. A s you might have guessed, he's not one to keep a regular six week appointment at the salon.  Evidence of the shaggy grow out:

It starts to look wild fast!

You've seen him during his hair farmer days before, but here it is again, a painful reminder:

So please, make your opinion known and save us from an unpleasant repetition of the past.  If not for my sake, then for the sake of the peanut who will have to look at that hair-do in their baby book photos for the rest of his or her life!

Shelby

Restoration

The rustling sound in the trees you just heard?  That was caused by my deep inhalations as my head cold has finally fled the coop.  Hooray for breathing through two nostrils!  Who cares if standing upright for the 12.5 minutes it takes me to apply my makeup is enough cardio activity to leave me huffing and puffing!  At least I can huff and puff through my nose!  No one likes a mouth breather.  No one.
Further proof of my reestablishment as a productive member of society?  I cleaned my whole house!  Sure, it took quadruple the time it normally does, but still.  And while Jimmy has noted that I am starting to walk with a distinct waddle, I'm not quite to the point where I can no longer bend low enough to scrub out the tub.  When that time comes (within minutes, no doubt) I'll be making use of a (brilliant) tip passed on to me by my friend and mother of two, Bertha (name changed to protect identity). Once you've gotten too big to bend it like Beckham (or even like Betty White), perch your delicate self on the edge of the tub and use your swollen feet to push the sponge around the tub.  Good.  Enough.
Not only can I breathe and clean my house, I've taken pictures of Jimmy's outfit two days in a row!  Look out world, here I come!
Without further ado, Jimmy's outfits:

Wednesday: A full view, and yes, the pants are pin striped. 

Wednesday: Close up of the camel coloured argyll.

Thursday: Dapper in dress shirt and pants.

Jimmy has a special interest in shoes, and I agree with him because this is where many men's outfits fall apart.  I've said it before, as long as you've got a decent fit and flat front pants, you're pretty safe.  But the shoes, oh the shoes!  So many men's shoes fall in to the dreaded sausage category.  How can you be sure your shoes aren't sausages?  There are two criteria.  The first and most important is a cylindrical shape.  This is exacerbated by the second criteria, which is the illusion of a longer than necessary shoe. The lengthy appearance of the shoe without the presence of the cylindrical shape is fine.  But put the two together, and you're in trouble.  Photographic evidence below:

The dreaded sausage.

And for comparison, a close up of Jimmy's shoes:

A simple Steve Madden slip on.

A Diesel boat shoe boot.

The details of men's fashion can be exhilarating, no doubt about it.  Speaking of details, if you have any suggestions for Jimmy's hair, I do believe he is in that frightful in between stage and is looking for suggestions.  Hmmm, another idea for a future post - the evolution of Jimmy's hair.  You've seen my evolution and given your votes, now I think it's Jimmy's turn.  I've posted the long haired pics of his youth, but there have been many mutations over the years.  Off to the archives I trot to find you some photos!

Till next time,

Shelby

Hair: Not the Musical

Immediately after yesterday's post my mom texted me to say that I shouldn't lower my standards just because I'm packing on the pounds.  She ordered me to return those two tops immediately as she had found much better in Phoenix.  Sorry Chez Quinlan commenters - she inadvertantly insulted your sense of style too!
Also, now that the bump is fully visible, the comments from well intentioned onlookers have started.  "Wow you're really popping out!  It must be almost time!" or "Oh you look great, you're due in March, right?"
If I were due in March, that last one would be a really kind comment, but seeing as I have at least 94 days to go (thank you My Pregnancy app) I'm starting to get a little worried.  Not worried enough to stop eating ice cream, but worried all the same.  
Ellen must have seen my post on hair the other day, because she was talking about hairstyles on her show too!  Here's the clip - I love the first guy's hair.  If this baby is a boy, that's the style I'm going for.  Sadly, Ellen didn't have an answer to my long/short dilemma, but the people on Pinterest have spoken!
I pinned this picture awhile ago after my mom told me it should be my new hairstyle (she's relentless, I tell you!).  It's had 183 repins and 24 likes, which is approximately 10 times more repins than anything else I've pinned.

I don't know - my hair isn't that thick, and it's a bit too unkempt looking for my tastes!

  Poor Ginnifer, on the other hand, she only got 1 repin.

Personally, I'm partial to this one, but it hasn't been repinned even once.  

If you're interested, you can see what I'm pinning here.  Just don't judge me when you see my board dedicated to HRH Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge.
Shelby

Hair: The Long and Short of it

I have had both very long hair and very short hair, and everything in between.  And while I usually lean towards the shorter side of the spectrum, it doesn't seem like many others in my life feel the same way.  

As a teacher, returning to school the day after having your hair cut can be intense. True, there are those students who don't notice, but more often than not there are many comments, often when you're trying to lecture, or administer a test or at a zillion other inopportune times that the munchables will make their feelings known.

I can remember one student who said, upon seeing my freshly coiffed locks, "Don't worry, Mrs. Quinlan. It will grow back."  Or another who waited until several months later when the hair had in fact grown back, then said, "Remember that time you had a bowl cut?  I'm glad you grew it out."  And inevitably, the girls in my class would swoon over the wedding photo on my desk, and say things like: "Oh, you had such long hair!  You were so pretty then.  Why did you cut it all off?"  From the mouths of babes . . . ?  Even my brother in law joined in with his very forward thinking perspective when I cut my hair shortly after my wedding saying, "Well, you're married, you've cut off your hair, now all you need to do is gain 15 pounds to complete the trifecta."  Ahem.  

But here's the thing.  My hair is not particularly thick, and so when it's long, it has a tendency to look like someone attached seven strands of golden yarn to my head.  Yes, long hair is more versatile, but also more work.  Short hair seems edgier and more stylish, but you have to cut it constantly to keep it's shape, and sometimes it can cross into soccer mom territory. Currently my hair is in a mid length bob, because I didn't want to have a pixie cut paired with a potentially bloated pregnant face, but I'm sure after the bébé arrives the temptation to reach for the scissors will arrive with a vengeance.  My only fear is that I won't be able to make a sound decision with the monumental hormone shifts and lack of sleep that are  awaiting me.  What to do?  Turn to the internet for advice!  What do you think?  Long or short?  

 While I await your shrewd advice, I'm off to research some ideas for future posts. Talking about myself constantly has become dreary.

Ta!

Shelby 

The Beginning

I was inspired to write today's post after one of my friends commented that Jimmy was starting to look like a certain biblical figure with his shaggy beard.  
"If only he had long hair!" She lamented.
Well guess what?  He did have long hair at one point.  Really long hair. Unfortunately, the long hair and beard have never coincided.  Or maybe that's a fortunate thing.  Of course I'm going to post the photographical evidence for your viewing pleasure, but I thought I'd mix the pictures in with the story that began 13 years ago with the blossoming of our relationship.

I remember seeing Jimmy on my first day of grade 10 in the cafeteria and thinking he was cute.  Jimmy will correct me because he says that he wasn't at school on that day, his first day of grade 12.  Where was he?  Off somewhere playing lacrosse, of course.  Regardless, it was near the beginning of the school year. Being that he was in grade 12 though, I brushed off any thoughts of anything coming of it.  
So imagine my surprise when one afternoon in January my friends and I were accosted in the common room by Jimmy and his friends.  Their calls of "Hey you!" just couldn't be ignored.  Once we realized they were talking to us, the serious conversation began.
One of Jimmy's friends broke the ice in telling me that Jimmy liked me.  Jimmy immediately turned red and ran from the common room, giving solid credit to his friend's claim.  With Jimmy out of ear shot, his friend could begin his interrogation in earnest.  He asked questions that I'm sure are used today by dating services the world over.  

Rocking the his and hers G Shock watches.

Things like: "Do you like guys who play hockey?  Well Jimmy plays hockey."
Or: "Do you like who play rugby? Cuz Jimmy plays rugby."
And my favourite: "Do you like guys who chew tobacco?"  The answer to this one was a definite no, and Jimmy's friend, clearly wanting to preserve Jimmy's dignity, responded, "Well that's okay, Jimmy only tried it once, and he threw up afterwards." Dreamy!
Displaying a level of class I haven't seen since, Jimmy's friend reached into the nearby garbage can, pulled out a slip of paper, wrote Jimmy's phone number down, and collected my number to pass on to Jimmy.  And then . . . nothing.  Well, that's not true.  I did notice Jimmy taking the long way to his afternoon classes, going through the grade 10 hallway to pass by my locker, but he never said anything or acknowledged me in any way.  So after a couple of weeks, I very uncharacteristically decided to take matters into my own hands and phone him.

Remember those days when no one had their own cell phone and you had to phone their home number, all the while fretting that their mom or dad would answer and wonder who this girl was phoning their son?  Definitely sweat inducing.  
So Jimmy and I would talk on the phone most everyday, and every time the weekend drew near I would hope he would ask me to go out somewhere with him. And every weekend he would tell me that his friends were coming to pick him up and he'd call me before he left. And he would call me before he left, and then go out.  With his friends.  And without me. 
Finally he did extend an invitation to his hockey game, which I demurely accepted. However I made a serious error.  I secured a ride from a guy friend.  And my arrival at the arena with said guy friend was not taken well by Jimmy.  What can I say, I was naive!  So, while Jimmy spent the next few weeks giving me the cold shoulder, this guy friend was beginning to show signs that he wanted to be more than friends, and I panicked, because my one and only weakness is that I can't bear to make people angry or hurt their feelings.  

I couldn't see any way out of this one - one of these guys was going to be angry and have hurt feelings.  So, how did I solve this dilemma?  By chickening out and agreeing to date the guy who asked first, and as in any romantic comedy, it was not Jimmy who asked first, or at all, for that matter.  You may have guessed that Jimmy stopped speaking to me at this point, and his loyal friends weren't very friendly in the halls at school.  So how did we end up the blissfully married couple we are today?  Seeing as this is already incredibly long winded, I'll fill you in on the rest tomorrow.  Hopefully the pictures of Jimmy's luscious locks will hold you over till then.