Its been a month now..sad to say in two weeks I will be returning to Buenos Aires with two of the kids that want to go back and start school with their friends. Funny, that is not one of my childhood memories, wanting to cut vacation short and go back to school.Its been great. We have had a lot of guests, great weather and the kids are happy here. I have been doing a lot of cooking for the family. Kids suck to cook for. All my kids eat, but they eat entirely different things. So I am basically a short order cook. Its not very fun or satisfying being a short order cook. However, I do like cooking for grownups. They tend to be less picky, have better table manners and are always gracious with the chef..with kids I am a cook and with the adults I am a chef.I have exercised some. Taken walks and then done some exercises on the galleria. It doesn’t always work out for me. The kids are fascinated when I workout as they never see me do it since I use the gym to exercise. Unlike their father, I don’t run or bike or do anything sporty that would warrant sports clothes at home. Anyway, in my attempts to workout I always end up with Georgie hanging off my tension bands from log beams, Owen joining me on a small lounge cushions I use as a gym mat to do sit ups and the most annoying, trying to avoid stepping on land mines (Osa’s rocks) while doing squats. Lets just say, exercise has been intermittent.
I have created a really nice little rhythm here for myself. I don’t want to even think about what will await me when I return to BA in two weeks. So I wont. But I will tell the tale of the Haircuts.
The above photo is the kids just hours away from a stunning transformation. I like the kid’s hair long..but it was so long that it had been incorrigible. I was fighting with my boys about brushing their hair. Preventative brushing, so that the birds nests and rasta dred locks could be avoided altogether . Each boy had a challenge: Henry has a hyper-sensitive scalp. So even a normal brushing involved lots of high pitched screaming and 12 year old verbal abuse. Callum had the pelt helmet going. His hair was like a beaver pelt that had been attached to someones head. It would probably be pretty warm so not practical for summer in Junin . Owen problem was simple, he looked like a girl and was often mistaken for one too. I think the constant “Que linda familia, que suerte a tenir dos varones y dos mujers” (how lucky you are to have 2 boys and 2 girls) was starting to bug him. So all the stars lined up and it was the optimal time for the much needed haircut.
Not only was the outcome exciting but the journey there was nothing short of bizarre. There were seven of us (O’Connells and friend Elizabeth) in this tiny little salon for over an hour. GM came and went feigning errands he had to do, Elizabeth and I tried to keep occupied by reading haircutting magazines and managing the kids on this side of in control. Georgie was able to busy herself practicing hairstyles on a frightening mannequin head that had even more frightening waist length (if she had a torso) orange horse hair. The boys were occupied with choosing themselves new style from the many Hair Trade Magazines at their disposal. Callum’s cut came with a step by step instruction with photos. Callum made clear that he didn’t want the red highlights that the magazine was suggesting. I will let the photos tell the rest of the story.