If I had not given The Enigma a mohawk two weeks ago, Dozer Doodle would not have been asking for a haircut. Granted, she wanted a haircut like Enigma’s, but I’m not willing to do that to my three-year old daughter… yet.

That’s a big “yet” because…

On Monday, I trimmed Dozer’s hair (shorter than Mary Sunshine’s hair, but not quite as stylish as Enigmas. A chin-length bob. Cute, functional, my Grandmother won’t freak in two weeks when we see her).

Dozer’s haircut led to Sunshine wanting a haircut. I was going to snip a few layers in it, just to keep her happy and keep the length when I saw something black near her scalp. Oh no. I dug and dug and didn’t see anything else. We were working in the light of dusk, so I wrote off my “is that a…” thoughts as tricks from the fading light. The husband later told me that our back door was open, so I explained the “black thing” and we both were reasonably sure it was probably dirt from our back porch. Ok, that’s cool. Case closed, until the next morning when The Enigma said they hadn’t gone outside. Oh shit.

7am and I’m picking through the hair of my 3 year old twin daughters. If ever there was a time to scream, “FUCK” this was it.

The Husband leaves for work because in my morning haze, I figured I’d just run all of the kids to the store for a kit or a comb. Let me drink some coffee first and begin to function. Oh wait, when one has lice, one stays at home. I am officially stranded in a house full of bugs . I begin to research home remedies, see all of the “RID/NIX doesn’t work” opinions and decide to treat them at home. I call my dear friend at 8am (the beauty of our friendship is that its never too early for a panicked call about lice) to see if she has a comb. She doesn’t, but she goes to the pharmacy for me and picks up a lice kit. I feel much less alone now… still icky, but loved, regardless.

According to everything I’m reading online, combing/picking is best, no matter which treatment is used to treat the scalp. We’ll see. Boobs to the wall, my friends. I will win this war.

Day one: After the discovery, panic and revulsion dies down. Strip all bedding in infected rooms (so glad the three youngest are sleeping together right now), pull off all couch pillows, throw outside and start washing bedding, clothes, towels and pride.

Saturate twin heads of hair with extra virgin olive oil mixed with a ton of tea tree oil. Comb through, wrap with plastic wrap and put a bag on the hair. Even The Enigma. Even me. I’m not taking chances here, and I have no clue about what I’m looking for beyond black crawly things. Leave plastic on for over an hour, go shower with girls using more tea tree shampoo and then rinse with white vinegar while promising lots of chocolate and candy. Wash own hair, wash Enigma’s hair and start combing.

Day one, three hours later: this is the most disgusting thing ever. Pick, comb, pick, comb. Spray with TTO/water. Repeat on next section of hair. I am a fucking ape, but they’re as clean as I can get them. Fight temptation to put little egg things in mouth (I’m not even kidding, and no, I did not eat lice). Nothing was crawling and I think that’s a good sign. The Enigma is clear.

Continue laundry madness throughout day, eventually combing through own hair and praying for salvation. Cancel participation in belly dance class. Call local movie theatre to inform them of our condition (oh, and Mr. Manager, its entirely possible that my kids got lice there, but aside from that, did you think that MAYBE you should spray the theaters since my kids were there in the last week and now HAVE lice? Fucking condescending idiot). Bitch, moan and consider AM drinking mandatory therapy for lice infestations.

Day one: After The Husband Gets Home with Subway Because I AM NOT COOKING. My arms are falling off from NIT PICKING. I’m a Virgo and all, but damn, this is just a bit much for even my detail-oriented arms to handle. We eat, I throw girls in tub to wash out remaining oil and do another vinegar rinse before combing again. Husband vacuums and sprays down my car. I dream of the martinis I will consume after the kiddos are in bed.

Bedtime. The Husband pronounces me clean and promises that he can see with his glasses. I believe him. Drink time. Pass out from emotional strain… I didn’t even finish my martini (well, the second one).

Day two: Initial scan of heads reveal nothing. This is a good sign, but, again, its before coffee. 7:30am lice “search and destroy” begins again. I now know what I’m looking for. Three hours later, all heads are combed and I officially have lice. I want to die. Nothing crawling, so still a good sign. We are not contagious and hopefully, today was the worst of the harvesting.

Day two: cabin fever sets in and I have a car inspection due before my trip in 7 days. Yeah, did I mention my road trip yet? How fun is it to have lice a week before leaving to visit friends and family? It isn’t, so shut up. Must keep moving, must leave house. Must dream of running into Jeremy, the Movie Theatre Manager and rubbing heads on his pillow. We slick back our hair with TTO/water and head out to run mostly car-based errands, except the inspection. While waiting on the man with the sticker, I mentally slap my hands away from my kids heads. I don’t lie well, I always get busted. I figure that being seen picking at their heads would be a dead giveaway. I repeat, we are NOT contagious, but still. I’m wearing a scarlet “L” at this point.

Day two: pre-bed combing goes much better/faster/easier than the AM session. I am a greasy mess, myself, and afraid of what I may find on my own head after a shower. On the other hand, people may be more likely to accept my head full of bugs over my stench. I’m willing to risk it at this point. I need to feel normal… well, clean. Well, something. I’ll just go feel myself. After the shower, I thoroughly comb my own hair. Its much better. I still want to die.

Day three: If there is not a major improvement over yesterday’s harvest, then I’m hitting the vodka and RID. It takes us one hour to do 3 heads (mine excluded at this point). Things are looking so much better! ITS WORKING! ITS WORKING! Maybe I can leave the house tonight and drink with some random aquaintances!

To be continued…