I got my hair cut
I look like my mom, which is strange since I don’t resemble her at all. But now my hair does.
I feel very matronly. 
Noah, being Noah, spent some time crying last night and asking me to please make it go back. He’s just like me that way. My mom would buy a new purse and I would go into mourning. I liked things to be the way I expected them to be when it came to my mom. Anyway, I told Noah that as soon as I stick my head under the shower, it’ll curl itself right back up. Happily the color looks really great although she talked me out of (as she always does) growing out my grey. See, the problem is that I only have grey around my face and the rest is that dead-brown color that hair gets just before it becomes grey. I wish I’d just go ahead and go completely grey and get it over with. I love grey hair on other people and I love my grey hair, too. It’s the rest of the color that’s not working for me. (By the way, I started to go grey when I was 21 or 22. That’s how it works in my family.)
I had a deep, insightful entry to write but apparently I’m not going to be writing it today. Maybe next time. Maybe after I’ve had my coffee.
ahem. Can we see a photo of the new do?
Writing about your hair is deep and insightful. At least to me.
Two years ago, in February, I had my shoulder length lt. brown hair shaved completely off and raised a thousand bucks for cancer research as a result.
What surprised me the most was how much of my sense of female identity was tied into my hair! I’ve had quite short hairstyles before but never shaved bald. I struggled with it for a while.
The next revelation for me, was how freeing it was to not have to fuss over it at all!
I would wear it that way all the time, except that both my son and my husband have indicated that they like it when I actually have some. So for now, I choose to pander to their tastes :).
Although I don’t know how long that will last. Maybe only till it is long enough to try and raise money with again.
I remember being eight, and crying (howling!) for a whole hour because my mother had bought a curling iron for her hair. I thought she was going to end up looking like one of her friends (with short, permed hair), whom I didn’t like much. It turned out okay though, and her hair looked so good I wanted her to curl mine too. But I still remember the horrible prospect of a Changed Mother. Shudder.
Love the Madison smile - she’s such a cutie!
When my mother got her ears pierced, when I was about 8 or so, I felt completely betrayed for many days. I didn’t have such issues with her hair, but then, she still has essentially the same haircut she had throughout my childhood.
However, flash forward to a few years ago, when my husband and I had been dating for just over a year. On a whim, he shaved his head, and it sent me totally over the edge. Again, I felt betrayed and cried for days and days about it. I still feel a twinge when I think about that time. It’s sort of incredible that we’re still together! Ha!
But, what is this all about? I have a nephew who insists that his mother wear her hair back, and hates when it is down. What is the fear behind all this?
(Love Madison’s hair style by the way!)
Ah ha! So I am not the only one! Blonde highlights are your friend! (No one knows about my grey hair streaks. Shhh…)
I chopped eight or ten inches two weeks ago and went into mourning myself.
No one else noticed.
Cute Madison hair in the photo.