My hair has gotten more than its fair share of attention in its years. While waiting patiently for a haircut, the phrase "your hair is so thick!" inevitably was uttered at each and every single appointment. I call it my mujahideen hair because it can be so wild and unruly as it struggles to defy rubber bands, conditioners, and gravity, especially on humid summer days. Whenever I happen to let the beast out of its confines, I get remarks on how different I look with my hair down.
My locks have gone from jet black to reddish brown. Recently, a new shade has made an appearance. When I was pregnant with ZP, I found a single white hair. When I was pregnant with AP, I found another single white hair. The other day, I found my third white hair. Uh oh.