Vanity, Thy Name is Mommy Hungry

I got a haircut yesterday, in advance of Chinese New Year this weekend (a tradition said to confuse the evil spirits who won't recognize you), at my usual place, with my usual person.

But it is not my usual haircut.

Except, I didn't ask for anything new. Just a little off the bottom.

But she must have done this "thing." All on her own, despite what I said yesterday and what we always do. Which, not seeing that he was doing something different, because I can't tell how you cut hair, I didn't notice until I got home and washed it (because she always does this funky ugly straightening thing so it doesn't look like me until I wash it. Bud even said to me when I got home, "Um, Mommy, I like the way you usually look." Me, too). It's layered somehow, though we have a clear "no layers" rule. And it is much shorter than the little pinch of an inch I showed her as we started. What was she thinking?

I HATE it.

I have few physical vanities, but one of them is my hair, which I think is one of my few beauties (for full disclosure, I think my others are my hands and my eyes.). Not that I do anything with it special, sometimes just managing the "mommy bun." But I like the color and the crazy waviness of it--I even like the two grey hairs growing in front. And I like it longer even if I know it probably looks better short.

And so I am devastated by this haircut.

And I don't know what to do, besides crawl in bed until it grows out, which is going to take forever. First, rationally, it is very silly to get upset about something that will change quickly and that really, in the grand scheme of things, is completely immaterial. Second, if she were to trim it to one length, I would look like Mama; it would have to be that short. Because of the f**king layers. And I don't want short. Third, and related to number two, confronting her about it now wouldn't work; we'll just have to have a talk before she can cut my hair again.

And so, for now, I'm stewing and avoiding mirrors (which is easy because, like tv, we only have one in the house and it's a little one). But I can feel the difference when I shake my head, brush my now much thinner and lighter hair, and couldn't put it up in anything this morning.

I'm going to try to touch base with reality and get some perspective, which is obviously sorely needed. But right now, the only good thing I can say is, with all the hair she took off, I'll at least weigh a few ounces less at weigh in this morning.