Do you all remember a couple of years back when I lost my damn mind and decided I needed to dye my hair platinum about a month before my 40th birthday (https://larva225.wordpress.com/2013/09/09/forrest-frump/)? It wasn’t pretty. I don’t know what I was thinking – that I’d be beautiful and hip again, or perhaps would morph into a Khaleesi. Either way, it was not a good look for me. The front wasn’t awful, but it just didn’t suit me. The back looked like yellow straw. I spent the next year trying to cover it with various dyes until it grew out enough to cut off and start over. I vowed not to ever dye my hair again – even dark brown. Until….
I just attended a parent meeting at Stella’s new school. She starts kindergarten next week. I’m having a panic attack. Academically she’s ready. She’s ready. She’s also feeling a bit sad about saying goodbye to her awesome teacher and classmates where she is. She’s alternating between being very clingy and wanting to be close to me (including sleeping with me almost every night, which hasn’t happened in a year or more) and showing her butt. She’s worried she might not be “sparkly enough” when she wears a uniform. She’s also excited about that uniform. If only it was sparkly. I hate the uniform colors – navy blue and burgundy. It’s the most drab and depressing colors to shove little people into. I’d rather it be black. Let them be emo. It would be more stylish.
Wow. I just totally got off track.
As I looked around at the other parents, I realized that as surreal as it was that my kid was about to be in “big school,” it’s also crazy that she’s only starting kindergarten as I prepare to turn 42. After filling out a billion forms, meeting our new teacher, signing up for yet more blasted testing (making me once again gnash my teeth that this is kindergarten vs law school that we’re getting into), and dropping off a metric ton of supplies, I went home and looked in the mirror.
My hair. It has a lot of grays. I’m suddenly thinking that perhaps I do need to renege on my no dye promise. I don’t want kids making fun of Stella for her granny/mom. And hell…Poor Felix. Heaven knows what my hair will look like then. Methinks it’s time to get me to the CVS in order to purchase a box of dye.