I solemnly vow not to cut my hair, or Bowen and Riordan's, until 2011.
I don't know how I manage to do it every time. I just want a little trim for the boys, I see the haircut looking all gorgeous in my head, and I describe it as best I can for the hairdresser, and yet they always emerge from the salon looking as though they lost a fight with the whipper-snipper.
I promise not to cut their hair for the rest of the year, just to see what happens, and if I'm going to do it for the boys, I may as well join in too, and not get any length cut off my hair for six months.
It took two rainy days, but last week I went for, and passed, my pre-learners course to get my motorbike licence. I have no aspirations of joining an outlaw motorbike gang, or burning across Australia on a Harley Davidson, but it occurred to me that with three boys, I might miss out on some things if they turn into dirtbike crazies like their father! Darren, the authority on such things, insisted that if I wanted a bike I had to get my licence, so that's my next step. Right now, I just look cool in my dirtbike gear, but soon I will be mobile!