I got my hair cut this week. The universe breathed a sigh of relief when I left the salon. It was wondering when I was going to do something about the disaster that is my head.
I hardly ever cut my hair, seeing as how I don't have time to read a book let alone leave my house all by myself for a haircut. Not to mention the fact that my stylist charges the equivalent of a tropical, five-star vacation. When I got pregnant with Jack my hair was the longest it'd been since high school, and I loved it. Pregnancy does wonders for the girl with thin, fine hair. It gets shinier and thicker and prettier. You go around thinking, "So what if I am the size of a dairy cow? I'VE GOT SHAMPOO MODEL HAIR!"
But there are all sorts of indignities you must suffer when you have a baby, and the one hardly anyone warns you about is that all your hair is going to fall out. Don't look at me like that, pregnant ladies. I know from which I speak. Three or so months after your baby is born, you're going to start having giant fights with your husband about all that hair on the bathroom floor.
A few months after Jack's arrival, that long strong hair was no more. Not only was it stringy and greasy and patchy (OH GOD, THE PATCHINESS), Jack was practicing his yanking skills and using it to mop up his drool. I wouldn't have thought twice about cutting it except for my fear of the dreaded Mom Haircut. You know what I'm talking about. Goodbye shampoo commercial locks, hello no-maintenance bob. It's part of the Mom Uniform: yoga pants, stained t-shirt, and hair too short for baby to pull. And if you evaded the Mom Haircut, you are wearing a ponytail and THINKING about getting yourself a Mom Haircut.
So I cut it. I went to a new salon and asked for Katie Holmes hair (pre scary bangs) and the girl smirked and said she'd see what she could do. I left the salon with my most favorite hair ever. (This is why I don't mind funding her five-star vacations.) It was far from Katie Holmes, but it was shorter and swingier and made me feel like I didn't spend my days pleading with a four-month-old to take his nap already. And then I woke up the next morning and realized that unless I took a crash course in blow dryers and round brushes, that hair only existed at the salon. "You got the Mom Cut!" my friend's husband exclaimed when he saw me the next day. "Don't worry! My wife cut all her hair after our baby was born too."
I decided to embrace my Mom Haircut. I even thought it suited me. I WAS a mom, after all. But I'm serious about having no time to dash downtown to the snazzy salon for a quick trim. Before I knew it my hair was long again. It had grown out fairly well and fine baby hair was sprouting in the bald spots. And then? I got pregnant AGAIN. And my hair? Was awesome AGAIN.
But that's over now. My daughter is two and a half months old. I had something akin to a wet mop gracing my head and so my stylist asked me: did I want to go short?
I looked at my long stringy hair. I imagined where the bald patches will be in a few weeks. I thought about the ponytail I wear every day because I don't have the time (or, let's face it, the skills) to do anything fun with long hair. And the wishful thinking part of me cried, "NO! KEEP THE LENGTH!" Which is why I am sporting the exact same ponytail and sloppy bangs, just without the split ends. A ponytail is the BEST way to show off your patchy spots, let me tell you.