Curly Locks

I chopped my hair off this morning.  Thanks to all the hormones of pregnancy (and me not cutting it every two weeks like I did while pregnant with Ru!), it was getting well past my shoulders.  But I was ready for a change.  And a hair cut was a whole lot cheaper than a new wardrobe.  (Especially since I cut my own hair or have my sis-in-law do it, considering that on the rare occasion I’ve paid for a hair cut I haven’t been half pleased with it!)

Once again last night, I was asking Merritt the same question: “How do you like my hair?”  After all his normal answers that did not relate in any way to the real question, he answered the same as always, though with slightly more detail: “I like it up when it’s long and I like it short and curly.”

The part about having it up when it’s long always makes me laugh, because the only reason a girl would go to the trouble of growing her hair really long is to be able to wear it down, right?  The trouble is, I have really thick hair (at least when it hasn’t been falling out in gobs after nine months of not losing any hair!).  So not only does it lose a lot of its curl when it’s long, it’s just plain a lot of hair to wear down.  Unlike my sister-in-law’s hair that is almost more curly when long, and absolutely gorgeous and calm when she wears it down.  (No, I’m not jealous—she just always makes me want to grow my hair long!)  And at least unless I decide to chop my curls off as short as Amelia Earhart in “Night at the Museum II” (which I’ve not seen except for this shot—which is adorable enough to make me want to cut my hair that short!), I can still put my hair up (with a whole lot less hairstyle-induced headaches, not to mention a whole lot less hair clips!) when it is short.

So this morning I made a resolve (along with the one last night about doing sit-ups): I was going to cut my hair.  I put the still-tired girls back to bed (not only because I didn’t want my daughter seeing me take scissors to my hair, but the girl is absolutely paranoid about my recent hair loss, so seeing gobs of hair anywhere makes her quite upset) and stood in front of the mirror over a trash can, armed with scissors.  An hour—complete with a shower and lots of conditioner and gel—later, I feel much lighter (unfortunately no thanks to those sit ups I did this morning).  And my husband won’t even be home until late this afternoon to see the new look!

Tempting as that shot of actress Amy Adams is, I’ve been promising myself that I would keep my hair long enough to put up until after a certain Big Event in December when I’ll want to have a formal hairstyle to go with my formal black bridesmaid dress.  After that, I just might tell my sis-in-law to take the scissors and make me look like Amelia Earhart.  Until then, my curls are a bit shorter than they were at my own wedding (except, with bangs—Merritt is quite definite on that point: “Bangs add interest”).

I’d say that the reason my husband likes my hair short is that is how I was wearing it when we were falling in love.  (I remember him telling his sister many years ago that she should “cut her hair short, because it would be cute, like Gretchen’s.”)  But he is already talking about how cute Ruth will be with a bob cut.  I think the man just likes short hair.  So I have concluded it would be quite silly of me to keep long tresses just for my own vanity’s sake, since, after all, it is his opinion that matters!

He likes my French braids, though, too.  This summer he told me he liked my French braids, because “they look farmer’s wife-ish.”  Which reminded me of many, many summers ago when he’d told me on a day I was sporting French braids, “Your pigtails are cute.”  (I’d have worn my hair like that every day after if it wouldn’t have been too obvious.)

So yes, I’m back to short ‘n’ wild curls.  Just for my man.  (He says he likes the wild part, too.)

And if in the future you happen to see a mommy and her girls sporting varying sheds of red bobbed curls, it’s quite likely you’re looking at Merritt’s girls.  (Unless, of course, I talk him into letting their hair grow long enough for French braids.)