I feel frumpy.  Dumpy and frumpy and schlumpy.  Bleh.  There’s plenty of reasons for that.  Weight, clothing, time, energy.  Whatever.  Standard mommy stuff, right?  But one thing stuck out as a downer that I could actually do something about in short order.

Finally, after nearly eight months, I made an appointment to get my hair done.  Ahhhhh.

Literally, my last haircut was shortly before my brother’s wedding.  Since then, it’s just been roots and stringiness and lots of ponytails.  I finally caught myself in the mirror the other day while trying on new glasses (since, um, I lost my last pair six months ago and I’m starting to get headaches).  Oh, it was just so ratty looking.  Got home and finally made the phone call.

Saturday morning, I went to see my dear hairdresser friend Joann, who doesn’t even give me too much of a hard time when I go way too long between cuts and foils.  I felt a little bad leaving right after Rebecca and M’s hospital outing of the night before, but I’m glad I did.  Nearly two hours of just sitting and having no one climbing on me or screaming at me.  It was quite nice.

And, because I’m a blog-aholic, I even took pictures.  Just for you guys.

The "before" - long, straggly, and roots, roots, roots. At least the highlights are a subtle shade. It could have been worse.

Alien phase with lots of tin foil and a rotating heat lamp.

Back at home. More than six inches shorter, layered, and blonde again. Don't I feel sassy? Now I just have to learn how to wear makeup...