My hair has gotten long.
Wait, no, that's not accurate.
My hair has gotten too damn long.
No, I am not talking Crystal Gayle length or anything, because that would be too damn crazy ass long. However, it has gotten long enough that when I see people I haven't seen in a while the first thing they say is "wow, look at your hair." That's actually the only time I am really grateful my hair has gotten as long as it has because they could say, "Wow, you've put on weight!" and that would be a true statement as well. The hair distracts them.
All other times, though? I do not like this hair.
There are really only two styles I can do with it: straight down and ponytail. I tried doing a half up, half down style that I used to love when I had mid-length hair, but I just ended up kind of looking like a Polygamist wife. That is not a look you want to have in Utah. I have tried braiding it, but with the aforementioned weight gain I end up looking like a pin head. Also, braiding would violate all of my rules for how a woman my age should behave.
My hair is everywhere now. It's its own entity. I find it in balls under the table, or wisps on my desk. Meg is always saying "your hair is on me," and it usually is, even if I am standing ten feet away. As it gets longer it seems to get thicker too, reaching out to overtake everything around it. Oh, and don't even get me started on how it gets in the way when I am trying to be "amorous." I am beginning to worry my husband must have an Addams Family fetish because dalliances with me have become like getting it on with Cousin It.
So, then, why don't I just go ahead and cut it?
Because my daughter thinks it's beautiful, and I love the way I look through her eyes.
I love the fact she likes to pull my hair across her mouth and make a moustache. I love that she likes to sit in my lap and "hide" in it. I love that she wants to pet it as she goes to sleep. I love that she calls it my "big beautiful hair." I love her, so no matter how much I hate my hair, I'm keeping it for now.
Maybe I should start practicing "Don't it Make My Brown Eyes Blue" right now in case it gets too out of control...
Oh, wait, I already have blue eyes.
"Talking in your sleep," it is.