Mom Hair

I have a bit of a confession to make…please don’t judge me.   I hate messing with my hair.  It’s way down there with making a bed…you have to do it every day and then it just gets messed up again.  Sigh…

It had been a while since I had my hair cut.  A long, long while.  Long enough that my doting husband went from making subtle hints to outright  asking me if I was getting my hair cut anytime soon.   I could say that I was growing it out in an attempt to grow beautiful long, thick tresses  like my daughters (and heck, even my mother) have…but the truth is, I simply don’t want to be bothered with it.  I’ve accepted that I will never have beautiful hair.

The other night as I was driving past one of the strip mall haircutting  places, I found myself parking in front of it walking in.  The moment had finally come for me to do something with my poor bedraggled locks.  It just so happened that the stylist I ended up with had a true passion for working with hair.  We discussed what I was wanted (which for it to look decent with no effort at all on my part) as she circled around me making thoughtful noises.  She suddenly had an inspiration and  started to describe it to me.  Despite fearing that I would end up looking something like Kate Gosselin, I agreed to let her do whatever she wanted.  (Honestly, it couldn’t hurt!)

As my hair was being blow dried, my stylist started jumping up and down with excitement, (I told you she had a passion!) she told me I was going to love my style.  Of course she was right, I did love my new look…my only complaint was that I wanted a bit more height on top which she quickly fixed with a bit of product. 

The next morning, I showered and quickly styled my new ‘do so that I could make my grand reveal. My family raved about great it looked.  (That would be another bonus to waiting so long in between cuts) Mimi kept looking at it with a strange expression on her face.  Clearly there was something she wanted to say, yet felt that she shouldn’t.  It didn’t take to much to draw out of her what was bothering her. 

Apparently all my efforts at creating height and fluff out of my new style had resulted in the dreaded “Mom Hair”.  (Is it bad that I didn’t even know there was such a thing?)  Mimi ordered me to come with her and I was introduced to her hair straightener.  My youngest daughter quickly smoothed out every last little curl and bit of height on my head.  With a small nod, she finally pronounced my new cut to be really cute. 

When I stopped to chat with Shaun a few minutes later, he just stared at me with a  puzzled expression on his face before asking what happened to my hair.  He said that it looked funny and…flat.  I explained how Mimi transformed me from the queen of Mom Hair to the chic and highly fashionable person standing before him.  He merely grunted and mumbled something about liking it better the other way. 

I hate to say this, but clearly,  we like Mom Hair…please don’t judge us…


Never fear, despite all the potential  fun of humiliating my teenage daughters with the  80’s Big Hair aka Mom Hair, I now wear my hair in a socially acceptable manner.  I also plan to get it trimmed again in six weeks…or so…

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