Ever since my sweet sixteen party when I got the first taste of highlights, I was hooked, like a drug. "More", "lighter", "chunkier", "seamless color" I would yell at the salon......it is addictive. Like crack. Well, I have been a blonde for a lot of my life......some of my dearest friends only know me as barbie the blonde, even my HUSBAND does not even really know the brunette side ;) No more. The charade is over.
It wasn't all of this bravado the entire time though. I had been deliberating over this for a week. Stomach in knots, asking good friends their thoughts, really ran the gamut of emotion about this. I needed a change. I needed something that would propel me from the drudgery of new baby parenthood. Sleepless nights, breastfeeding, spit up, 3 minute showers, pumping...you know, the *glamorous* life.
I went in to my color specialist and said....make me a brunette. It was so liberating, so exciting, so.....naughty. He asked if I was sure and was not going through "hormonal" issues and I said "nope...give it to me". And voila...6 hrs later (color correction, blah blah blah) you have, Barbie The Brunette...
Michael will have fun with the new chick at the house. Thank God for the vasectomy ;)
I am editing the post to add that needed to prepare athena for the "unveiling"(we have all seen those makeover shows where the kid has a crying fit when they see their mother for the first time, and doesn't want to be held and the mother is holding in her tears b/c jr doesn't recognize her). in order to avoid unnecessary weirdness. Michael went in to get her and he said "momma's hair is different", "momma's hair is darker". I heard her repeat it and then she came into our room...and looked and said "momma's hair is black...negro". Then she said "get down, want juice". So it is safe to say that all is okay over here. Saylor (which was not forewarned....obviously) actually gave me a longer look and I swear, checked out the 'do.
Bar-b (when I was still brunette)