It seems that spending all day every day with 2 small children has dulled my wit and sucked the social skills right out of me. Socially inept or not, I am now a little less hairy! Last night I stepped inside a salon (Does Fantastic Sams qualify as a salon?) for the first time in at least 6 months. I know, right? Six months? It's sad but true.
The death of an shred of style in the hair department started a few months before my daughter's birth. I simply didn't care if I looked like a hairy wild woman with no style. I wore clothes with belly panels for goodness sake. Why tap into my energy reserves for stylish hair? Of course giving birth didn't give me any spare time. Or energy. I relied on ponytails to get me through the summer. My hair could no longer be ignored!
Desperately needing some style but not wanting to spend much money (I'm cheap like that), I took Hubs' advice and went to his "stylist" at Fantastic Sams (think Cost Cutters, Great Clips, etc). He raved about her mad hair cutting skills. But let's be honest. Hubs doesn't have much of a style to his hair. They snap on his preferred blade guard and buzz away. Would she butcher my hair? Would I be embarrassed to step outside the house? On second thought, it would take a lot to make it any worse. Why not?
I honestly wasn't very nervous. I'm not emotionally attached to my hair. She cut off a good 3 inches and thinned it fairly well. I have yet to find a stylist who thins my hair enough. I'm happy to report when I put my hair in a pony tail after the cut (old habits die hard), I could twist the holder around my hair 3 times as opposed to the usual 2. Hooray for less hair! I am very happy with my new style and Hubs is happy I still have some length left. It was very tempting to go really short again but Hubs likes long hair.
I have to admit, my social skills need a little dusting. There's always that awkward getting-to-know-you phase when you visit a new stylist. Neither of you really want to carry on a conversation but how can you not? So you take turns awkwardly asking the usual questions, attempting to create somewhat of a natural conversation. How was work today? Are you married? Where are you from? It took me a while to form a coherent sentence appropriate for a target audience above the age of 3.
Seeing myself without make up, several pounds heavier than I'd like, and hearing the rubbish that spewed from my mouth...let's just say it made me think about things. When did I let myself go so far downhill physically? I don't need to be the sleek, stylish woman with all the latest accessories (although I do love cute purses). But these days, I'd be afraid to answer the door if someone knocked without giving me advance warning.
Something as insignificant as a hair cut can make a huge impact. (Check out The Gift: A Year of Writing Dangerously for another take on that idea.) Now that I have something that vaguely resembles a stylish hair cut, I want the rest of my body to match. I don't want to see my reflection in the grocery store door and be embarrassed by the sight. And seriously? Bags under the eyes? I'm only 30. Those have to go to. Looks aren't everything but when you love how you look, it's a big confidence boost. It's time to give myself a little attention!
Today's ramble is drawing to an end. There's pumping to be done (I love waking up with a leaking boob), showers to be taken (2 days in a row if you're keeping track), and kids who need to play. Have a happy weekend!