Friday, January 31, 2014

Casual Observations

So, I cut my hair.

I spent almost two full years growing it out. It was lovely-- thick, natural with a gentle wave, and almost down to my elbows. After seeing all the long hair styles on pinterest with the braids and sock buns and curl tutorials, I was sure that once my hair was long enough to fishtail and weave and twist, that I would be fulfilled.

And then he came. My son. My joy. My life (pretty much). And he brought a whole bunch of things with him:

1. Exhaustion. It's common knowledge that new moms are tired, so I am not going to add to the sob-story by sharing my tired sob-story. But, it may not be common knowledge what lack-of-sleep does to the long, beautiful hair. Tiredness causes my hair not be brushed for three days, not to be washed for four or five, and instead of a waterfall braid, it might be scraped (knots and all) into the low, half-falling -out, ponytail.

2. Spit up. I probably don't need to elaborate, but long hair and partially digested milk will not ever be a a good combination, unless, of course, you are into to whole dreadlocksmadewiththrowup look.

3. Sticky, strong hands. Bless my baby's soul. He has a beautiful smile, and can't even sit up on his own. So naturally, he needs comfort from mom, in the form of mom's hair. Just in case I drop him, he has his own safety net-- or rather, safety strands. Also, a fool-proof way to avoid a diaper change, and mom can't put him down without pain.

4. Worry. All girls know that hair sheds. Mine does too, and it sheds itself into the folds of my baby's skin, and hides there, making him irritable and uncomfortable. Granted, if he didn't pull it so much there wouldn't be that much of a problem, but oh well.

So I went to the salon, flipped my lovely, mocha milk chocolate hair over my shoulder (I washed it before I went, just to spare the stylist), and said, "Take it all off."

"All?" (Eyes my hair with envy and longing).

"Yes," I reply. "Shorter than a bob, and longer than a pixie cut, if you would."

And she did. I am twenty-three. And I officially have mom-hair.