Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

29 Mar

So it’s spring now, although as usual, nobody told Texas. Or they did and Texas chased them off his porch with a shotgun. Forget the groundhog. Texas decides if we’re having another six weeks of winter or not. It’s pretty nice today actually, but it’s been super cold lately, in my opinion.

Anyway, in recognition of spring’s arrival, at least on the calendar, I decided to cut my hair very short. I’m normally very bad about getting my hair cut, or even trimmed. I get a trim maybe twice a year, but more like every 8 or 9 months. Last time I did a major cut was over 5 years ago, and I was pregnant with my son. Not adorable, all belly, beginning of the third trimester pregnant. I was fat, sick, middle of the first trimester pregnant. Experienced moms will tell you that it’s a bad idea to make any huge changes to yourself in the emotionally charged first months of pregnancy. It’s hard enough to deal with basically losing control of your body, but couple that with a drastic change to your appearance and it can be a lot to handle. And it was. To me, my long hair always symbolized cool things like youth and freedom. Losing that, while trying to grasp the reality of impending parenthood, was kind of a bummer. I remember catching a glimpse of myself in a mirror one time not long after that first cut. Was that really me? Boring shoulder length hair (red at the bottom with brown roots, since I gave up hair dye), fat, squishy middle, ill-fitting maternity capri pants that came down way too low on my legs since I’m short, and socks with sensible sneakers. I almost cried. I probably did actually cry. I felt like I would never be me again. I was just gonna be this lame mom version of myself who wears elastic jeans and serves Sunny D to adolescents. It would’ve been nice to look in the mirror and still see my same old long hair. Then at least a piece of the old me would’ve been there somewhere, you know? Anyway, I was able to donate my hair at that time, which made the whole experience a little better. At least there was a purpose. Even though I was carrying and helping to create life, which is a pretty great purpose in itself, but whatever.

So except for maybe 8 or 10 trims, I haven’t done much in the hair cutting arena since the trauma of that cut. I knew better to stay away from the salon when I was pregnant with my daughter, and for the year and a half after her birth while my body was still not quite recognizable. Does anyone else cling to their hair length like I do? Am I coming off slightly crazier than the Cocoa Puffs bird? Either way, I woke up one morning recently and was just ready to have it gone. I was tired of the tangles, the pulls, the clogged shower drain (although let’s be honest, that was more my husband’s problem), rolling it up in the car window (which happened more often than you’d think). Remember what happened to that gal in Big Love when her braid got caught in the car door? That terrified me.

Yes, I did it.

aint she a beaut!

ain’t she a beaut!

How come as soon as you cut off a ponytail of hair, it becomes slightly creepy? I didn’t mail this off to Locks of Love until a few days after the cut, and in the meantime I stored it in a bag in my husband’s nightstand. It was a running joke that he was a creeper who keeps human hair in a drawer next to his bed. You never know who people are until you look in their nightstand, am I right?

So, there you go. I finally cut my hair. It was fun, I was ready, and over a week later, I still love it.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Easter weekend with your loved ones! He is RISEN!!

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