August is the time for announcements.
It's almost a year to the day that we announced Baby Landis, if you can believe that.
And now I have another
You guys, I'm growing my hair out.
Whew. That feels good to finally get out there. I've been sitting on this news for a few months because it's just not something I take lightly. I had to be sure I was ready, I was committed and I was strong enough to go public with this. Anyone who has gone from pixie to long knows what I'm talking about.
*Unrelated side note: I was talking to my mom the other day and (without thinking) said "GUESS WHO IS PREGNANT AGAIN?" and she kind of gave me this weird look and it took me just a beat too long to realize that I had left just the tiniest room for the thought that WE might be pregnant again to enter her mind ... so I veryveryvery quickly recovered and said "No no, it's not me". Mild panic attacks all around.
I figure you guys have been through enough of the ups-and-downs of my hair journey that we should share this season as well.
I have done just about everything with my hair. It's been long. It's been short. It's been permed. It's been dyed (successfully and unsuccessfully). It's even had fire-engine red streaks (ah, college). There are have been good decisions and bad decisions. There have been great cuts and unfortunate events.
You'll recall the boy-band hair episode for the "unfortunate events" reference.
To give you an idea of how often my hair morphs over time, I need you to understand that this has been a pattern in my life.
Let's take a look. Walk with me...
A Brief History of Hair: ATY Version.
Take high school, for example. I give you my hair freshman year, and my hair senior year.
(This is a big step for me you guys. I feel vulnerable here.)
So that's just high school.
Now we have the last 10 years in a very condensed nutshell, simply because I got tired of looking through all the pictures and didn't want to include a bazillion more...
So, to recap: we have freshmen year of college red-streaks, we have curly college hair, we have straight college hair, we have post-college long hair, we have post-marriage shorter hair, we have move-to-Europe pixie, we have super-short pixie bordering on faux-hawk, but not quite because you'll recall OH YEAH, I have actually had an accidental mohawk. Too bad no pictures of that have survived. And by too bad I mean THANK GOD. There are also no surviving pictures of the orange color that happened to my hair mere days before we left for the states this year. Remember that? Woof. (Actually, my friend Kate has pictures of the orange episode. When she posted them to social media, she made them black-and-white. TRUE FRIEND.)
This hair relationship, it is a complicated one, is it not? The thing is, hair is just always changeable, right? So when I get bored or restless, changing my hair seems a better choice than, I don't know, getting tattoos. Nothing wrong with that, by the way. But hair changes are just less of a permanent commitment, you know?
But anyways, enough is enough. I have loved my short hair. Z LOVES my short hair (and he is, in fact, the reason it has remained short for so long...I tried growing it out about a year ago and he convinced me to keep it short). But I'm ready for new hair. I want a ponytail, for pete's sake! So I press on, through this muddled territory that is the pixie grow-out. A mullet is inevitable. Let's just acknowledge it, accept it, and move forward. We are in for some scraggily, mangy days. There will be headbands and clips and optical illusions and so so so much hair spray. But we will get through! You're here to witness this and hold me accountable.
Hair we grow! (Sorry for that. Only a little bit though.)