Chopping off my hair because that's what mothers do.

I have always felt sorry for mothers and their mother-coifs.

What is it about motherhood and growing older that seems to demand a boring, short hair cut?

And about a week ago, I finally understood it. It's not so much a secret initiation into boring mommydom, it's a necessity. Long hair takes time. Patience. Time. Things most mothers scarcely possess.

I'm not even a mom yet, and here I am, anxiously awaiting my 4 o'clock hair appointment to chop some of this wig off. It's too long. It takes me fifteen minutes just to untangle it. It takes another 2 1/2 hours to dry naturally, or about 30 minutes of blow-drying. After that, it takes another 15 to 20 minutes of straightening, or curling, or just beating it into submission.

When I was in college, it was worth the dedication.

But now, I find myself resenting my long-do. I find myself looking in the mirror and not admiring my hair, but thinking it just doesn't look good enough to warrant the sacrifice.

And on top of it all, I'm pretty sure the hair-past-the-boobs thing is a big contributing factor to me looking like I'm 15.

So in about six hours, I'll have something new.

My own quasi-mom-do.