For the first time in almost an entire year, I went to a real salon to get my Hair Did.
I’ve been putting it off because I am the Proud & Sole owner of the breasts that nourish my child who refuses to take a bottle and I fear if I leave her for a few hours, she MIGHT STARVE TO DEATH.
I finally convinced myself she wouldn’t starve if I left her for an hour or two. I made an appointment and asked my mother if she’d watch the girl for me. She was happy to do it.
You should have seen my mother’s face when she saw The Diaper Bag. You’d think I’d be a pro at packin’ The Bag, having raised two baby boys, but, um, I guess I forgot or something. I packed 10 diapers, an entire box of wipes, a fruit dessert, a bottle of juice, 3 toys, 2 bibs and one jumping activity chair. My mom was like “um, how long is this haircut going to take?!” And I was all “an hour at the most” and then she laughed at me. But I wasn’t laughing. No way, I was fighting back tears because I was leaving my baby girl for the very first time. I kissed her, fought back the tears so my mother wouldn’t laugh at me AGAIN and Off to the salon I went.
I told my stylist I wanted to keep the length, but I wanted lots of layers, then I lost my mind and said “just give me something kinda FUNKAY”.
At first, I LOVED IT. Layers everywhere! All of the dead ends and dead weight GONE! I was in love with it!
But now? I’m getting a little sad because I THINK it looks like Heavy Metal Hair.
I didn’t want HMH. I wanted FUNKAY hair. And in my mind? Funkay hair and HMH are two totally different things.
Perhaps I should have made sure that my stylist and I were on the same “funkay” wavelength before I let her go all Vidal Sassoon on my head because apparently? One mans “funkay” is another man’s “heavy metal hair.”
But hey, let’s look at the positive here. I was gone for an entire hour and a half and my daughter didn’t starve to death.
It’s all good.