By heather | March 18, 2009
Tonight after her bath, I made the mistake of holding Emily Kate right up next to my face and looking in the mirror.
Aaacckk! (you know, Cathy-style) is the first thing that came to mind.
Because I’m in the stage of pregnancy right now that I almost forgot about – the pretty-pretty-pregnancy-horomones-are-leaving-you stage. The exact same thing happened the first time around, except that time I neatly ended the post-partum uglies by promptly and unexpectedly getting pregnant again.
Exactly three months to the day of giving birth, I started losing CLUMPS of hair. Not just a few strands here and there, so much hair fell out that after a shower it looked like a gerbil was curled up on the drain. Three months after that, my hair stopped falling out but then my nails started breaking and my skin started flaking. Now here I am 8 months later, and I have the double whammy of inch long strands of hair sticking out all around my hair line plus excess grease and zits.
Add to that picture the end of the day mascara-flakies, the newly formed frown wrinkles between my eyebrows and then hold it up next to this air-brushed, clean-smelling, chubby perfection:
Oy. Or GAAAH, if you prefer.
Although, I’m generally pretty happy with my appearance, when I start feeling you know, BLAAAHH, I tend to do one thing: SPEND MONEY TO FIX IT. Usually I throw it at getting my hair cut and highlighted, sometimes on new makeup, or skin treatments but this time there’s a little something else that I’ve been thinking about.
Dare I say it?
I’m a big fan of “offense is the best defense” school of beauty – get it before it gets you. But in this case, am I still aging gracefully if I pay for poison to be injected right between my eyes? Or am I one step away from becoming Joan Rivers?
Perhaps I should try going shorter and blonder first. Or new mascara.
Would you do it? HAVE YOU?