Youâ€™re probably at the mall.
For I have seen the Gates of Hell. And they bear the sign, â€œValley Fair.â€
Whoever coined the phrase “If you’re going through hell, keep on going…” was obviously at the mall when inspiration hit. Continue reading
Today I was faced with a detrimental project problem at work. I looked down the length the conference table and announced, â€œMake it work!â€ Because there is really no situation that cannot benefit from the sage advice of fashion guru Tim Gunn.
I was met with a silent host of blank stares. I realized I was surrounded by computer engineers. This was quite clearly my most impressive Know Your Audience fail yet. Continue reading
â€œYou have Mom hair.â€
I looked at myself in my rearview mirror. It seems the ideal is for youthful long luxurious locks â€“ then you have kids and make the move to a short, no-nonsense minivan-driving look. And I have become that mom. With Mom hair.
When the muppets were born, we bought a new car. Itâ€™s not a minivan (I drew the line at that one), but it is a three-row SUV. I laughed at myself then â€“ I was well on my way to soccer-momdom.
During pregnancy, hormone changes cause hair to grow fuller, thicker, faster and just generally all around awesome looking. Perhaps thatâ€™s natureâ€™s way of saying, sorry you resemble a beach ball â€“ hereâ€™s a lovely frame for your newly full face. Sadly, I spent most of my time sporting a great mane as an accessory to a hospital gown.
I knew that my hair would start to fall out again several months after the muppets arrived. Since Iâ€™ve always had long thick hair, I thought I was prepared to deal with the inevitable shedding. But I was definitely not prepared for the actual extent of the shedding that was to occur.
One morning, four and a half months after the muppets were born, I had dragged my sleep-deprived self out of bed and was getting ready for work. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. The reflection staring back at me looked like it had a receding hairline. I brushed my hair off to the side, and brushed the thought out of my mind â€“ obviously I was just deliriously tired.
But as I continued to get ready, I noticed my hair coming out by the handful. Strands of hair were all over the house. My desk at work was starting to look like a hair salon with clippings on the floor. I began to wonder if it was stress or lack of rest that was causing such a drastic style change.
That night was bath night. I casually asked Jon if he could tell that my hair looked a bit thinner. â€œOh wow,â€ he commented. â€œNow that you point it out, I can totally see it.â€ I was not pleased (with the fact that it really was thinning, not that he commented on it).
Oh. My. Gosh. I stared down at my naked little man splashing around in the tub. My blood pressure started to rise a bit as I realized I was rapidly heading in the direction of matching hair styles with the fuzzy-noggined muppets.
Apparently, this is totally normal. All of my fellow mommy friends laughed at my predicament. Why did none of you warn me about this?! Each and every one pointed out that they had, in fact, told me this was going to happen. Why did none of you warn me about this in a way that made me believe you?!
I generally prefer long hair. I know Jon prefers long hair. But constantly combing out clumps of my hair was driving me slowly insane. The hair that wasnâ€™t falling out was instead falling victim to the vice-like grips of muppet fists, which would then get ripped out if I tried to detach myself from a cuddly boy.
It was time for a drastic change. The hair was getting chopped.
I think Iâ€™ll let it grow out again. When my hair decides to stay firmly put, itâ€™s welcome to be long. Until then, I shall experiment with how to make Mom hair look stylishly chic. And I promise to stay away from the high-waist jeans.