allie weig
the journey of a pirate and his mom
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Month: January 2016

blo.

1 / 29 / 161 / 29 / 16

I’m going to take a little detour from the usual on this post and talk about one of my favorite things.

Hair.

Every girl has that one feature they hang their hat on, and for me it’s my hair. It’s pretty much always been long and blond except for one unfortunate kneejerk decision to dye it brown after having Charlotte. Blonds: don’t ever do this. I wore a hat for a week until I could rush into a color specialist and begin lightening it back to it’s natural color,  then sat there, horrified, watching strand after strand of my over processed hair fall onto the salon floor.

Now, with my current life as a (mostly) stay-at-home mom/realtor I don’t have a ton of reasons to get out of yoga pants much less do my hair. I’m a total ball-cap girl. HOWEVER. When I do have something fun to go out to, I like to do it up right. Always have. Same with make up. It’s just so fun when you have the time to do it.

Back in the the Chi-Omega house at OSU, getting ready for Date Parties was one of my all time favorite things. And we had a couple girls in our house who had a gift for making other girls look and feel beautiful. One girl in particular would have a standing line of sorority sisters waiting their turn to get make up  and hair done by our resident stylist, Laynie… who I remember always looking put-together, even if she was just going to class. Sweet Laynie would barely have time fix own hair and throw some make up on her face before the event started because she spent the entire afternoon taking care of all her friends. She never rushed on us, and was always asking if we were happy with the finished look. We always were.

IMG_7988 (1)
Their most popular blo out style: “The Dru.” Make up thrown on at home.

IMG_7989

 

Flash forward a few years and Laynie has gone on to launch a fabulous blo-out bar in Oklahoma City known simply as blo. It’s been so impressive to see our friend take her obvious eye for beauty and turn her talent into this incredible business that seems as fun to work in as it is to patron. Not to mention they are just DOMINATING the OKC wedding scene. One look at their beautiful Instagram feed and you’ll see why. (@blooutokc)

Emily Ann Hughes
Photo by: Emily Ann Hughes. Hair and make up by blo.
Peyton Rainey
Photo by Peyton Rainey. Hair by blo.
Aubrey Marie Photo
Photo by Aubrey Marie Photo. Hair and make up by blo.
A straight blo-out and make up.
A straight blo-out and full make up and lashes. Photo by Melissa Cosper.

I’ve been to other blo-out bars in Dallas and none compare to the one right here in Classen Curve. When I leave blo. my hair looks better walking out, and just as important, it stays put longer. My sister and I got our hair and make done at blo. for Sister’s outdoor summer wedding, and it lasted throughout the entire day, through the ceremony, and past the dancing.

Sister's June wedding!
Sister’s June wedding!

Sadly, I’m passed the “Wedding Every Weekend Phase” in my life as I’m sure many readers are too. Not to worry,  that doesn’t mean you’ve run out of excuses to treat yourself to a little girl time. To prove it, I’ve come up with my top 5 reasons I’d pop into blo and get girlied up.
Up first:

1. Family photos-I honestly don’t know why I haven’t done this before. Those pictures go on Christmas cards people. And I’m the one who plans out every single outfit! Why wouldn’t I treat myself to a little hair and make up?! Plus, then my look is a done deal and I can do what I need to do on picture day…. take care of every other family member.

2.Reunions-obviously.

3.Vacations: My blowouts have always lasted well into the next day, even without taking care of my hair-it would be a fun way to kick off a trip: looking and feeling like a million bucks.

4.Erron’s Work Christmas Party: I see his co-workers about once a year, at the annual Christmas party. Beauty definitely isn’t everything, but it’s nice to leave a good impression.

5.The kids’ school fundraiser: I didn’t go this year, but it’s a dress up event and a fun date night for the husband and me. Really, any nice date night is a good excuse to look like a hot momma.

And for mommas with older girls, they have a precious Strawberry Short Cake package for $24 that you can do for your younger daughter, or you can make a blo-out the cherry on top before going out to dinner on a mother daughter spa-day.

Bella
Photo by Melissa Cosper.

Senior Pictures-if ONLY this type of thing existed when I was graduating.

School Dances -they book up quickly on Homecoming and Prom nights, so be sure to call ahead.

So there you have it. Even though my hair usually only sees a curling iron on Sunday morning, I really do love any chance I can find to get dolled up. And blo. truly is the best place I’ve gone to do it. At my own wedding, I had to wash off my professional make up job and start over and had a friend re-do my hair. Blo. hits it out of the park every time, and each stylist who’s worked on me is darling, genuine, and easy to talk to. Blo-outs are $35, up-styles are $70 and braids range from $15-40.  Make-up starts at $40. Treat yourself or someone you love, the next chance you get. Laynie has been making girls feel beautiful as long as I’ve known her, and when you walk into Blo. that’s exactly what will happen.

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Five

1 / 16 / 16

 

Shep is 5Shep turned 5 a few days before Christmas. Celebrating another year older is always special as a parent, but celebrating Shepherd’s birthdays tug at my heart a little more than usual. He turned three and half in the PICU, his second day there after being rushed in by ambulance the day before. I remember realizing the date and my heart plummeting, because I couldn’t tell him it was his half birthday, and I didn’t know if he’d ever open his eyes again. With dread I realized I might have already celebrating my son’s last birthday without knowing it. When Shep turned 4, throwing his party was a turning point in my grief, I was finally able to look forward on his life with joy and hope instead of focusing on all the trauma he’d had to endure at such a young age.

And in a flash four became five. Sweet Shep likes to have his parties at our home, even though I offered him a few cooler locations since 5 counts as a Big One in birthday years. He finally cut me off, saying “But Mom, our house if fun.” Well, can’t argue with that. So we planned our little party, and then  3 out 4 of us caught the stomach bug. I finally had to call the whole thing off, the night before. I think that’s a parental right of passage, canceling a party in the eleventh hour.

We finally made it up today: A handful of neighborhood boys and school friends, and a bucket of foam light sabers. It was all they needed to have a great time. I tied white “storm trooper” balloons to water bottles thinking the boys could spend time fighting the helium balloons with their foam weapons. Thirty seconds after the first guests arrived those balloons were obliterated and the boys were running circles around the house screaming and attacking each other. We eventually funneled them outside with the Dads. I love boys and their wild ways, yet it sometimes surprises me when I see Shep cut loose around his friends, officially a BOY: rough and loud and crazy. His party was proved his age, and all that comes with it. They were in heaven, and that made me happy.

DSC07170

Shep is five. And we are so lucky to have him. He’s been described as the kid who “could talk the hair off a dog” and I love this description of him. It’s absolutely true. He doesn’t know a stranger. His humor and imagination are on-point. You have to beg him for a minute of silence in between stories. He is emotional… he loves big and feels deep, good or bad. His temper can be fierce and unpredictable, but his empathy is wise beyond his years. And underneath all that ornery is a heart of gold. Shepherd, your daddy and I are totally loving watching you grow up. Can’t wait to see what 5 looks like for you.

 

 

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Just put your pants on

1 / 8 / 16

I grew up in a loud family….we already like to talk, and when when we got mad, we would just “communicate” at a extremely high volume and use lots of salty language. It’s one of my default modes. I’ve eliminated the extra seasoning in my diction in front of the little people,  but I can still yell when frustrated. Lately, I’ve been using my “loud communicating voice” quite a bit. Recently, I started seeing it pop up in my kids when they got frustrated. I sort of panicked and told Erron, “The kids are yelling a lot, it’s probably because I’ve been yelling a lot. Shoot. I’m going to work on that.” Erron took the strategic rout of simply nodding…neither confirming, nor denying my yelling tendencies or their affect on our offspring. Smart man.

For the first few days, I was awesome. We went through the drama of the first day back to school, (we are not morning people) and I didn’t raise my voice. Shepherd cleaned his room, which always means hours of tears and desperate phrases like “I just can’t DO this! There’s TOO many! It will take FOREVER!!”  and I managed to keep my zen-status. Round and round it went: Shep telling me he was basically going to die from slave labor, me reminding him that if he couldn’t care for his toys, he wouldn’t be able to keep them. It took well over an hour, but I stayed the course. No yelling. Room got clean. VICTORY.

Then last morning Shepherd would not put on his pants.

I kid you not, convincing this child to put normal street clothes on his own body is like asking him to pick up tiny legos for fun.  This is a daily struggle. He’ll lay on the floor by the fire and act like he’s dying. Suddenly, he’s “too cold”  to move his poor frozen little limbs and pull his pants on.  It’s SO hard, and he’s freezing.  Funny, because Shep can whip a Darth Vader costume on in 5 seconds. Police man outfit,  or  hunting camo? Easy breezy. Jeans and a shirt though—torture. Shoes and socks? Forget about it.

“Get your pants on and you’ll be warm.” I fire back at him. Tears, howling, gnashing of teeth. I realize he fully intends to keep this charade up until I help him into his clothes, which I fully refuse to do. Which means the battle is ON (again) and the clock is ticking because we have to leave for school in 12 minutes.

In sheer desperation I hiss at him that tomorrow, I will leave it alllllll up to him. After all, he’s FIVE now. When it’s time to get in the car, if all he has on is underwear, then SO BE IT.  Underwear is what I’m driving him to school in. He’s not a fan of this idea and in the car he tearfully and angrily announces that he’s going to run away and find a new family.

If I’m not going to yell, I resort to sarcasm– So I respond to his 5 year old threat with, “Well, I’ll sure miss you if you go Shep. But if you run away, I HOPE YOU WEAR PANTS, because you will get COLD. Also, I hope your new mom is cool with you NEVER getting dressed by yourself.” Oh my gosh, parenting.

I drop the littles off, come home, re-heat my cup and then have a moment of defeat over my coffee. And send up a quick prayer that someday Shep will figure out how to put clothes on with out drama. I believe in miracles.

Later, I meet a friend for lunch who has a 4 year old daughter who thinks rules where made to be broken. She tells me stories about how her daughter pushes her to the brink of insanity on the daily.  “I thought I was like, a parenting expert with my first one”, she jokingly confesses. “Then I had my daughter. …turns out my first one is easy. ” It makes me feel better.

So, I might have yelled, “JUST PUT ON YOUR PANTS!”, one or two times yesterday. But I suppose it could have been worse; there were a lot unfriendly words rolling around in my head I could have inserted  into that sentence to made it way more exciting.

And this morning Shep got dressed in about 3 minutes, I’m saying it was because he was afraid of going to school in his undies. Winning. For now.

 

 

 

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New Year

1 / 1 / 16

Shep WinterFun fact: The end of December marked the first full calendar year for this blog so I was surprised with an email documenting the year’s total traffic data. In the past 12 months, about Prayers for a Pirate had roughly 30,000 visits.  Honestly, I have no idea what this really means comparatively speaking, it’s not a gigantic number, but it surprised me enough to share it with you. The numbers don’t matter anyway. The point is, this blog has been such a positive experience for me for so many reasons, and I had no idea how much I would enjoy writing it, and how much healing it would provide me.  I read every comment; I always have, from the very beginning when it was just me in a hospital room, posting frantic updates at 5:00 AM about Shepherd on my personal Facebook page. Since the moment I began using social media to share my heart and updates about Shepherd, you, the readers, have been such an enormous life raft of support, encouragement and understanding.

I didn’t know that writing would be the key to untangling the snare of emotions I felt last year about Shep’s accident, but it was. It was like therapy. Writing forces you to process and acknowledge what you’re really thinking and feeling, verses glossing over it and tuning out. And it’s still helpful, even though the story is no longer just about Shepherd. When I finally create the time to sit down and process what’s going on in my head and heart about our little family, it always surprises me how much peace and joy I get from putting it down in words.  My goal in 2016 is to keep making a space for this blog in my life. It is one of my very favorite things.

Thank you for being a part of our story.

 

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About Me

Welcome! I'm Allie. Lover of family and friendship, good books, a good laugh, and telling it like it is. This little space is where I write about healing my heart after almost losing my son to drowning, and also other things I hold dear: mothering, marriage, faith and friendship. Love that you stopped by.

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