Today I am going to share with you the latest thing that has CHANGED MY LIFE.
According to my hairstylist (whom I love, and I’m afraid she will read this and think we’ve broken up for good, which we have not. Because I am not going to attempt to cut my hair myself), blonde women’s hair gets darker with each child that they have. After TWO was born, I came to terms with the fact that my hair is growing in brown. It’s not “medium blonde” or even “dark blonde.” It’s straight up brown. Which would be fine … if I wanted to be a brunette.
In my previous life, I used to stretch my coloring appointments 12 weeks or more in between. But with my new hair growing in, I was starting to look skank. It always looked dirty. So I bought this product for $6 called Root Rescue.
It took me almost a week to get up the courage to use the product. I’ve had terrible luck with stuff like this. One time, I allowed my mother to highlight my hair and I ended up looking like a skunk. It was really, really bad. I ended up going to the cheap salon in the mall and asking them to just cut it all off.
Another time, after my hair had finally grown back and I was recovering from my fourth really bad breakup in a row (what was WRONG with me?!), I tried to color my hair myself and it turned orangeish-pinkish. So on top of being a mess emotionally, I was ugly as well. It was a dark, dark time.
After that, I swore I would NEVER attempt to color my own hair again. And now a decade later, I found myself with really pronounced roots and a minimal budget.
I decided to rescue my roots.
If I had it more together, I would have taken a “before” and “after” shot, but let me just say … it took 10 minutes and my hair looks really fantastic. It looks like I went to the salon and had it done for $100. Seriously. Even Husband was impressed, and he is rarely impressed with anything.
So now, I guess I’m going to be one of those women who dye their own hair in the bathroom, wearing an old robe and lunch lady gloves. Slowly but surely, my life is becoming less and less glamorous.
Psst. I have a secret. I don’t care. Because any time I start to wish I had more or could do more, things like this happen. And it brings me alllllllll the way back down to Earth again.
|TWO sleeping in his bed.|