By Shannon Magsam, married 10 years to the same sweet guy

Lingerie? Check. Presents centered around his ‘10 favorite things’? Check. The I’m-so-ready-for-a-weekend-alone-with-my-husband good mood? Check.

I thought I had everything I needed for our 10th anniversary weekend until I started getting ready for dinner that first night. Extra clothes? Uncheck. Darnit! I almost got bent out of shape, but then I realized that A) The Mt. Magazine Lodge restaurant isn’t black-tie only or anything, and B) The lack of choices just fit right in with the simplicity theme of our weekend plans.

So I just threw on some red lipstick and a red scarf for “pretty” and called it good. And it was.

We had so much fun. Not in the on-our-honeymoon-in-the-Bahamas way, or the viva-Las-Vegas way, but in a holding-hands-while-taking-long-walks, eat-chocolate-in-the-bed-together-while-watching-movies getting reconnected kind of way.

We both love to read and it was simply decadent to snuggle up next to each other in comfy chairs overlooking Blue Mountain Lake while indulging our inner bookworms. My pick was non-fiction essays and his was a book on chivalry that I’d given him as one of his ‘10 favorite things’.  (Here’s an aerial view of the lodge and cabins from the Mt. Magazine website. Gorgeous.)

Speaking of his ‘10 Favorite Things’ — in honor of our 10th anniversary, of course — I highly recommend trying it for your next big-number anniversary. It was super fun going around town picking out the presents. I doled out the goodies all weekend. They ranged from small things like his favorite candy to a nice new backpack for weekend trips.

Since he’s a lover of words, too, I also wrote him a letter sharing my “Top 10 favorite things about you”.

On Saturday we broke from our romantic mountain pursuits to drive into Paris, the little town about 20 miles from Mt. Magazine. Now we can forever tell each other in corny voices, “We’ll always have Paris.”

Getting back to reality after our 10th anniversary weekend has proved difficult. I still like to close my eyes and imagine we’re back on the “island in the sky”. Time on a mountaintop can help any marriage weather those potential “valleys”.

Shannon Magsam is mom to 8-year-old Ladybug, married to Ladybug’s aforementioned awesome dad, John, and co-creator of nwaMotherlode.com. To read previously published installments of Life With Ladybug, click here. Leave a comment if the mood strikes. 

Dear Rhonda,

What’s the general rule of thumb on hair color as you age? Go lighter as you get older, or go darker? Or does it all depend on your skin tone?

Dear Color Question,

Well, since no one really wants to talk about those “platinum” hairs coming in, this subject has to be treated with love and respect. I think it’s best to decide up front if you want to go “natural” or hide it. My mother has beautiful snow white hair that I would love to have one day — if my hair would cooperate and turn that beautiful white shade like hers. Instead, I got stuck fighting the ugly gray hair, so I cover it up with color and highlights often.

I recently had a client in my chair who wanted to cover her gray. She sill had quite a bit of her natural color mixed in with the gray hair. We talked about her lifestyle, and she made it clear that she’s a “low maintenance” kind of gal. Normally, you would color the hair and possibly highlight or low-light as needed. But since I knew she had a busy lifestyle and not a lot of time for maintenance, I suggested we foil in highlights and low-lights. (I call it a “push-pull.” Not sure when or why I started calling it that, but it works.)

I placed the highlights and low-lights and used her natural hair between the foils, taking fine sections, so that the maintenance would be super easy for her. Also, for the low-lights, I used a semi-permanent color so, as her hair grows out, the darker colors will fade away. She won’t see that tell-tale line of demarcation as it grows. When we were done, the results looked very natural and it really was a beautiful overall color on her. She was happy, and so was I.

As far as going lighter or darker as you age, it truly is a personal choice. Our hair naturally lightens as we get older anyway, so I tend to lean more towards going a little lighter than your natural color. The gray is also hidden well with highlights. 

Again, it comes down to what type of look you’re going for. Skin tone definitely has a strong bearing on the tone of color you should use. You would never want to see someone with very pale, white skin with dark black hair. Color should always accentuate your features and skin tone.

Getting older is hard enough, mamas. We shouldn’t have to worry about our hairstyle or hair color making us look even one day older than we really are. They say “You’re only as old as you feel.” But with the wrong hair color, you can feel ancient well before your time.

Rhonda Moulder, pictured right, is a mama to two beautiful daughters and is also a stylist in Bentonville at Estella Studio. E-mail her a hair question at mamas@nwaMotherlode.com or call for an appointment at 479-586-5100. Have a happy hair day.

Trust me, you do NOT want to miss out on the chance to win these tickets. Because if you score tickets to “Storytime Live!” at the Walton Arts Center, your little one is going to squeal and dance and light up like a star from Dora the Explorer’s backpack. This show is bringing four of the top-rated preschool cartoons to the stage, and it’s Nickelodeon’s biggest, newest, most exciting show ever. Characters from the following four shows will be in the production:

• Dora the Explorer

• Ni-hao Kai-lan

• The Backyardigans

• The Wonder Pets

Tickets for this show range in price from $18.50 to $32.50, depending on where you sit. We’ve got a family pack of FOUR TICKETS to give away to one lucky mom for the show on Tuesday, March 23rd at 6:30 p.m. Plus, this ticket package includes a “meet-and-greet” with the show characters! AND we’re going to send the winner and her kiddos to lunch or dinner at nearby Flying Burrito. Yum!

Click here for more info about the show and a listing of show times.You can also call the Walton Arts Center box office at 479-443-5600.

HOW TO ENTER: To throw your name into the hat for this drawing, click the big orange comment button below and tell us two things: Name your favorite cartoon as a kid, and then tell us what your kids’ favorite cartoon is. Easy, huh? You can also e-mail your entry to us at giveaways@nwaMotherlode.com.

HOW TO INCREASE YOUR ODDS: As always, you can increase your odds of winning the tickets and the Flying Burrito gift certificate by telling your mama friends about the giveaway. Just send them an e-mail about it and be sure to put giveaways@nwaMotherlode.com on the CC line of your note so we can give you proper credit.

Good luck in the giveaway! We’ll notify the winner by e-mail, so watch your inbox for a possible note from us with good news!

By Jade Stone, wife to National Guardsman Jay

Well, if you are reading this you have either come back for more or have stumbled in and are new to the story so here’s a quick re-cap: The previous entry was an account of my humble entry into this world in Ft Bragg, N.C., shortly after the end of the Vietnam War in 1975. The war took my father’s soul and replaced it with a capsule of dark memories and raging night terrors that would haunt him for the rest of his life. This would soon lead to the separation and divorce of my parents when I was about 2.

My mom started a new life in Springfield, Mo., with my beloved grandparents, and a surprise pregnancy which occurred towards the end of my parents’ relationship. So, in the famous words of Paul Harvey “and now, the rest of the story…â€�

As a 2-year-old, there are few things that really mattered in the world to me. 1) That I had my grandma wrapped around my finger; 2) the world revolved around me, and 3) that I was my mom’s pride and joy to dote on whenever possible.

Mom worked tirelessly at a fast food restaurant by the name of “Mac donals�, as I so fondly pronounced it, from mid afternoon to late evenings. She would keep me all day, and then drop me off at Grandma’s to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening.  Grandma would entertain me until bedtime, and then take me to that little white house for the evening bedtime ritual, put me to bed and wait there patiently until mom got home around 11.

You see, Grandma was also a very hard worker. She would then go home and sleep until 5, at which time she would get up and go to a local elementary school where she slaved in the kitchen as one of the last in a dying generation of school cooks who actually cooked everything from scratch. At times it seemed that she would pull into the driveway and mom would pull out.  While it may seem as though I was juggled around a bit, I personally never felt the sting of having an overworked, underpaid mom who, unbeknownst to me was not only struggling to keep us afloat but was also battling a broken heart and the rigors of morning sickness and all the ups and downs that go with pregnancy.

And then one day, “he� came along. Mom leaves for a couple of days and comes back with this screaming thing wrapped in a blanket. It seemed to suck the attention right out of any room and suddenly, no one came to see me anymore. All the attention I had come to adore was now redirected to that crying, fussy wad of blankets in the other room.

I no longer greeted people at the door but rather silently motioned them in and pointed to the other room because I quickly learned they were obviously not here to see me. That goofy crying ball of diapers got all the fancy ribbon wrapped presents and I got a pat on the head in passing. I wasn’t sure what this was about but I did know one thing, I did not like it! Needless to say, I had some adjusting to do!

Meanwhile, remember the young soldier I mentioned last time named Lynn? Well, as it turns out, he and mom had become close friends through the divorce process and when mom left North Carolina, they began corresponding by mail on a regular basis. Little did I know that they had become the best of friends, bound by common experiences. In fact, just before my little brother was born, Lynn was shipped to Belgium where he had been for almost a year when he decided he did not want to do this alone and the woman of two small children that he had grown to care very much for in the states needed help.

So, in January of 1978 he called mom and told her he wanted to bring her to Belgium and offered to care for her and her two small children in exchange for her companionship. Now Mom, being a single mother of two struggling to make it on small wages, faced what seemed like a no brainer.  This union would provide all of us with a nicer home then we had ever known, complete medical coverage, and a trip around a world compliments of the United States Army. What decision was there to make?

When a person finds herself in a situation such as mom’s, the decision is no longer based on ‘The man of ones’ dreams, or Love, but rather, what is best for the children involved and for two small children, much as it is today, insurance and security were commodities that we couldn’t afford to lose.

So, Lynn came home from Belgium on R&R (rest and recuperation) in February of 1978, they eloped to a small town in Miami, OK, to be married on February 9th  during a nasty blizzard, and by the 15th, we were loaded up and whisked away on the biggest airplane I had ever seen to a foreign land where everyone spoke a very strange, yet beautiful language. (That’s us in the picture above on our way to Belgium.)

What could God possibly have in store for us next ….

To read previous installments of Military Mama, including Part I of this story, click here.