So I’m just over two months away from the worst haircut of my life. That means my hair has had about eight weeks to grow out. I’ve had that much time to learn to deal with my hair on a daily basis.
I feel like we’re still about six weeks away from the time I can find a trusted, experienced stylist who can try and blend my current choppy, crappy layers into something decent. Right now it’s still short enough that to go to someone and ask for a ‘fix’ is to just ask for shorter hair and I’m not going to do that because, yeah, my hair is short enough right now, thanks anyway.
But yesterday was perhaps the worst hair day since the very beginning and yes, it was my fault.
Why was it my fault? Well, let me tell you why.
It was my fault because I was at the bottom of my list of priorities yesterday when it came to doing hair.
Alyssa asked on Sunday night if we could straighten her hair on Monday morning. I told her if she got up when I did, than we could straighten her hair. If she waited and got up even ten minutes after I did, there would be no straightening of the hair.
Lucky for her and unlucky for me, she got up when I did and so her hair was straightened.
After my shower, I did the rest of the morning routine, which is get dressed (duh), head downstairs where O should be done with breakfast, put her socks and shoes on her, brush her teeth, cajole her into trying to pee because she is facing a fifty minute bus ride, brush her hair, tell her I’m sorry I’m hurting her, brush her hair some more, tell her she’s not being killed DEAD and that we’re almost done. Then I usually braid her hair in an effort to keep the tangles at bay for the next morning.
Then it’s time to gather coats, hats, mittens, lunches and backpacks and wait for the bus.
During the wait for the bus (my hair is still wrapped in a towel at this point) I pack my own lunch.
Once the girls are on the bus I go upstairs to do something with my own hair and slap on a little makeup. I had about eight minutes this morning to dry my hair, make up my face and then try to smooth the frizz out of my hair before walking out the door to head for work.
Yeah, my hair needs more than eight minutes to look even half-way decent. Today it was way less than half-way decent.
Talk about not putting the oxygen mask on myself before others. (I know, not the same thing at all. I KNOW!!)
For the record, today is not much better in the hair department. I…I don’t want to talk about it anymore.