Practically A Brunette!

The last time I had my hair done, back in May, my hairdresser gave me platinum blonde highlights. I had asked for something more subtle, but I should have been more specific. It WAS more subtle than what I had done in previous years around March/April, which is go superblond in anticipation of summer-- my hair lightens naturally and easily in the sun, so the roots never looked too bad coming in, and the color looked good with my skintone when I had a slight tan (because it's impossible for me to get anything darker than a slight tan, it probably goes without saying. . .).

But it's been a couple months, and I haven't spent much time in the sun at all, and have no prospect of hanging out at the beach anytime soon, so no beach hair this season. Thus my roots were growing in dark and looking kind of trashy, and while I'm hardly fastidious about that sort of thing and don't care much, I do care a little and want to look presentable for William's baptism.

So today I explained that I wanted to go a little darker so my roots won't show the rest of the summer. But I guess my hairdresser interpreted that not as "a little darker than bleached blond" but as "a little darker than my natural hair color".

So now I'm practically a brunette. Not that I mind too much, I've had hair this dark before and liked it. But usually in the winter.

Terry said the new color makes me look tan. I explained that he was misinterpreting the effect. Since I have no trace of a tan since I'm avoiding sun with my son, the light blond was making me look a little tired and washed-out (it really flatters a more golden skintone that I can only acquire through careful applications of sunshine throughout the summer). So the new color suits my current pallor. But in no way does it make me look "tan". I just don't look washed-out anymore, which is an improvement.

I wonder if William will grow up able to better notice and articulate the nuances of a woman's changing appearance than his father. He did notice-- when I came home, Terry was holding him and I went to give W a kiss and that little baby turned his head away from me! So I went to the other side, but he turned his head again! He didn't even want to look at me, let alone let me kiss him. I tried a third time and once again he turned away, so I am sure he was doing this on purpose and it wasn't just some baby involuntary head movement.

W stared at me through dinner, but by the time he got hungry again, he must have determined that I'm still his mother since he took the breast without asking any questions. Eh, I guess that doesn't really mean anything, he grabs at the breasts of any woman who holds him when he's hungry. He even tries to feed off his father, which I think is hilarious but Terry gets weirded out, he doesn't like it. He keeps saying that William is "biting" him (but he doesn't have teeth). W isn't even a "biter", he's got a good latch so breastfeeding is relatively comfortable for me (not so much for my left wrist, which is still hurting me, but fine elsewhere). But Terry interprets the feeling of W sucking his skin as painful and biting. Good thing men aren't the ones who have to give birth. . .