“Well, don’t worry. That will never happen to me. Even if I became a mom, I would still have long hair.”
|Patrick and I took King to the beach this weekend.|
Let’s be superficial for a minute on the blog. I’m not quite the fake tan and acrylic nails superficial but I am vain to a certain extent since I am very visually charged and I like things, all things, to look nice. So keeping my hair long was a given no matter how much time it took for me to style it pretty each morning because I knew it was possibly the best thing I had going for me. Plus, long hair, dewy skin, and nice nails are a prerequisite for guys when judging the health and sexual viability of a woman but we won’t get into all that anthropological nonsense right now.
|Thank you, J.B., for the family shots!! :)|
|Sights of Venice. Er, okay, Venice Beach.|
Where was I again? Oh right, hair. So a couple of days ago, as I was finger-combing my hair (makes things way less frizzy than actually brushing it), I pulled out a huge chunk of it, enough of it in one go to make a small pet. I freaked out, turned to my trusty friend, the Internet, and read that many women actually lose massive amounts of hair after giving birth to a child. I guess I had only started to notice and my dad did poke fun of my increasingly thin roots the last time he saw me so I did the only rational thing I could think of and made a hair appointment DAY OF.
I didn’t want anytime to think about it and I just knew that if I were actually going to get a nice haircut, I had to make things count. When I arrived an hour later at the salon, I informed my hairdresser (whom I don’t see nearly enough) that I wanted a big change. “BIG. Like, seven inches big,” I said in between hushing King, who I dragged along with me, the poor soul.
|Shorter hair and a happier family.|
|Everything was so pretty I just HAD to go photo crazy.|
|Patrick with a coworker friend who lives by the beach.|
An hour later, I walked out of the salon with shorter hair than I have had since maybe high school. Probably not all that short compared to other women but short for me so I texted Patrick, “Got a surprise for you. I hope your love for me is unconditional.” And then the realization that I am doing and becoming everything that I said I would never do or be ever since I donned the mommy hat hit me like a ton of bricks. Sure, it is only seven inches today but what will it be tomorrow? And the day after? And how about after two more kids?
Yep, folks, it looks like my transformation into the reluctant housewife is well underway and now I have the soccer mom haircut to prove it. Actually, with my new ‘do, I think I look every part the foreign exchange student. From China. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing if I were into white men over 60 who teach linguistics on a liberal arts campus. Add a couple zeros to his bank account and I might even consider it.
(Amended to note that the above sentiment was made out of 100% jest and if my horrible attempt at being funny offends people, well, at some point you'll learn that you can never please everyone. And my fellow Chinese family and friends know how much I love them, cute hair and all.)
|King's virgin feet touch sand for the first time.|
|Stop intruding on Daddy time, Mommy!|
|King is pensive in the afternoon sunlight.|
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Speaking of which, check back tomorrow for Chapter 5 of my baby story. New to the story? Start with Chapter 1 HERE.