Attack of the Mom Hair

So today Will is 6 weeks old. I went in to the OB for my wellness visit, and everything looked good, all healed. It was so weird being in the doctor's office in my new, non-pregnant state, among all those women who are still waiting to have their babies. In the last week, in order to prepare for this time when I would have to leave the baby home alone with John, we introduced Will to his first bottle. This was more nerve-wracking for me than I thought it would be. I finally had to just GET OUT of the apartment while John gave Will the bottle and let go of all the little worries I had (will he get enough to eat, will he still like nursing from me, etc. . .). I ended up at Target, in the magazine section, picking out a new hairstyle for myself.

So yesterday I thought it would be fun to go to the mall with John and Will and I would get a new haircut, something short and low maintainance, since there are days now when it is hard to even get a shower in the morning. John expressed some concern about toting Will around the mall, but as it turns out the combination of noise, people, lights, colors, and movement is more than the little guy can take and he konked right out. Meanwhile, I sat watching 6 inch chunks of my hair falling on the floor. The stylist assured me with glee that, given the right tools, my new style would be a cinch to get through in the morning. After 45 minutes I was a new woman, and I bought all the right tools to get the look myself and we whisked ourselves out of the mall just as Will was waking up.

It was not until we got home and I got a long, hard look in the mirror, that I realized what had happened. I now have Mom Hair. In a flash, I went from this

(maternal-but-still-young-and vibrant) look, which I am sure Will will look back on me in the photos and exclaim, "Mom, how young and pretty you were back then!" to this:

Mom hair. Mom hair, mom hair, mom hair! It is not that I don't like the haircut. I do. It's functional and cool, Will doesn't get his fingers stuck in it, and it's not constantly falling in my eyes. I actually like it better today without all the hairspray and hooplah that I spent an extra $30 to be sure I could duplicate. But I don't think I was ready to see, when I look in the mirror, Cindy the mommy.