Five haircuts later...

...and I'm finally happy with what I have. For the last year I've been cutting, and cutting, and cutting and never really loving the mop on my head.

I'm usually not at war with my hair. After all, it doesn't gain weight, there's no cellulite to hide, you can wear it a thousand different ways and in a dozen different colors, and no matter what you do to it, it always grows back.

But this year, I repeatedly left the salon thinking, "Better, but not quite what I want."

Finally, today I left thinking, "Ahh... so much better."

I probably won't ever hit hair kismet this year. I'm always lusting after the long, wavy locks of the rail-thin television personalities. But this 'do, I can deal with.


And I'm only moderately alarmed that, like a lot of moms out there, my hair grows shorter and shorter with each year I find myself changing dirty diapers. I can only imagine what will happen when (and if) I have baby No. 2 (and just to confirm, that plan isn't in the works).

But back to the happy feeling... ahh.