Pregnancy hormones take the heat for lots of zany shit that pregnant ladies do. I am here to say something really nice about hormones, besides the fact that they are responsible for creating my children: Look at the sheen on my hair? Granted, by the time I step out the door, I look like a street urchin in less than 30 minutes, but the hair and nails are growing really fast and that's pretty fun.
Speaking of hair, I am getting that mid-pregnancy itch to do something drastic with my hair. Last time that didn't end well when I ended up with 3-inch long bangs that made me look like 12-year-old, Dawson's Creek reject. I made an appointment with the busiest stylist in Chicago: I called on Friday (October 8th) and the next available appointment is December 4th. That should be long enough for me to come to my senses and not go through the request to have the stylist turn my hair into the do that Anne Romano, of One Day At A Time fame, sported, complete with a red dye job.
Please, someone talk me out of this!
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