I'm in a very strange in-between phase of pregnancy. Yes, it's a magical time and I'm very blessed to have a pretty easy ride so far.... BUT. It's not as glamorous as I thought. Here I was thinking "hey, I'll be a hot thing, skinny as a rail with a tiny bump in front of me, wearing 5 inch heels". Shyeah. Thanks, Us Weekly, for making us think that that's possible. My heels have stayed on, but the rest of me has definitely changed.
Up until about a week ago, I've been able to wear my size 25 jeans (with a hairband connecting the groaning sides of zipper together like Moses trying to keep the Red Sea together). But I gave it up and surrendered to my expanding belly and ass. The changes seem to be happening at a rate where I feel like I have a new layer of fat every morning. On the positive side, some of the fat has deposited itself straight onto my 2-cup sizes larger boobs, which almost gives these English "glamour girls" a run for their money. Niiice.
I also haven't been sleeping well, which is rare for me, since I could normally sleep through a level of noise equivalent to a jet engine. I think the insomnia is a combination of having to run to the bathroom in the middle of the night all the time and a backache like I've been in a boxing match with Tyson.
My hair and face are another story. My hair, even having had it cut a month ago, has grown out already, and has felt heavy, dull and lanky, and my face just looks tired and beaten, and quite round now, sort of like a dinner plate. Great.
I'm wondering where this supposed 2nd trimester "glow" is arriving. I sense a design flaw in this whole pregnancy thing. And it got to the point where I've found myself criticizing my looks and being really negative. But I noticed I was complaining without actually doing something about it. So I made a change. And here's where I get to the title of this piece.
I went to the salon and told him to chop off my hair. 5 inches.
And if I sound vain, I really don't give a shit, because I am languishing in the giddiness of a new hairdo. It makes me feel amazing and pampered and completely brighter. I feel like myself again, and I feel like the insides of my brain got what they were aching for. A chance to feel like "me".
So, in fact, my hairstylist gave me good head, if you will. Both externally and internally.
5 comments:
I have always thought that hair dressers were just psychologists without degrees (other than hair school). Maybe that is why my best friend is a hair dresser?
i love it, it's tres chic
Very cute!
Hi Myshka! I am so glad you found my blog. I am looking forward to following your pregnancy as well. I can relate to nearly all of your complaints. And I really like your haircut... its adorable.
The glows is an ephemeral thing to those sporting it, but you've got it darlin'.
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