Writing about my hair, feel free to skip ahead.

I got my hair cut yesterday. My baby may never forgive me.

Until yesterday my hair was a little longer than shoulder length, brown, wavy, damaged, unkempt, and generally styled so as to scream 'I've given up!' to the world. But Mooch loved it.
When I held her she would take a lock of hair and gently stroke it across her cheek over and over; I was her blankie. At more active moments she would notice the wayward curls and pull them in front of my eyes, then puff at me to encourage me to blow the hair up off of my face. When I would lay her down for a diaper change she would shake her head violently from side to side to get me to lean over her and shake my hair all over her face and belly, this was apparently hilarious, or it tickled, either way.

For all of these reasons I considered leaving my hair alone and letting my scruffiness run free, but then I thought 'Hey, am I seriously going to let a 16 month old make my grooming decisions? It's bad enough that I have gone out in public after letting a 4 year old do my make-up . It's time to take back my own appearance! Also, Christmas is coming and I don't want to be mistaken for anyone's second cousin, Lurleen from the trailer park.'

So it's gone! I went short because I'm a lazy ass and I have found that if it's long I will ignore it and go for the 'Meh, good 'nuff' look. But when it's short I am forced to do something with it, or else look deranged.

Today hair, tomorrow a new sweater, next week make-up and perhaps someday I will renew my gym membership! Maybe not, I really am lazy.

P.S. Mooch has yet to notice anything different and I can still do the puffing thing a little so maybe it's OK.