Hair.

I know it seems like a trivial thing in the wake of, um, growing human life. But I watched the remains of my hair fall onto the floor yesterday. Inches upon inches. Or, seven.

That's more, though, than I've cut off in over a decade, since my mom decided I was old enough to leave alone at the salon to tell the stylist what I wanted.

I could sit on my hair back then, and when she asked me if I wanted a "bob," my 9-year-old self thought that sounded like a delightful thing to have and enthusiastically nodded yes before breaking into hysterics when she cut IT ALLLLL OFF. I've never fully recovered, and I've kept my hair unmanageably long since then.

That is until yesterday, when I decided that I no longer had the time or patience to keep it up.

Luckily, the stylist didn't let me go as short as I wanted. You can always chop more off, she said. And the still scarred 9-year-old inside of me nearly died with gratitude.

It's not "short" by any means. But it's significantly shorter than it was yesterday, when it was inches past my boobs (which now hurt so badly the lack of HAIR hitting them almost feels like a relief).

I still want it shorter.

Baby steps.

Read more...

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.

Read more...