This morning, as we ate at Waffle House before going to church, I looked over at my dear darlings.  Snarled hair they insist had been brushed.  Interesting outfits. 

I always wonder about the balance between raising ladies who understand the importance of meeting basic societal grooming guidelines and raising girls who aren't obsessed at ages 7 and 9 with looking like women, when they are still clearly just girls.  Acknowledging this, I know I can be a little lax, and especially when I am worn out. 

I will say that I should get a medal for vetoing Grace's outfit for my Dad's memorial, which was a turquoise shirt with a skull and cross bones - she just didn't understand why it wasn't appropriate.  And today, I took Andra to get her first haircut of the summer, just in time for school to start.   I don't allow tube tops at church or funerals, and don't think they haven't asked a million times.  We are improving. 

We aren't quite to my grandmother's standards, yet, and I am not sure we want to get all the way there.  We are traveling by plane later this week, and while I don't plan to get us all gussied up to go - I generally opt for comfort and stain camouflage - I think I will make sure we all have brushed hair and skin coverage.

That's a good start, I think.