I forgot what my hair looks like...

Every morning noon and night I wear my hair in a bun. It's the crowing glory to my daily uniform. Tank top, hoodie, and sweat pants.
Being home all the time and still nursing I have completely fallen into the comfort zone. And yes, it is oh-so-comfortable. Perhaps not all that fashionable or feminine but definitely easy access for the little dude and super flexible for afternoon car races on the living room floor.
With snow outside currently pushing 40 inches with 10-18 more expected in the next 24 hours I've simplified even more. Wake up, toss hoodie over pj's, wear allllllllllllllllllllllll day, put baby to bed, shower, put hair up,put on new pj's, sleep, wake up, toss hoodie over pj's....well, you get the picture.

And it ain't pretty. 

Comfy, but not pretty.

Both yesterday and today I was able to escape the confines of the house and make a break for it to the gym. Oh, one hour of non cartoon tv and an attempt to burn off some of the Hershey Kisses that have been stalking me during this snowstorm. Heaven.

So that added another step to the daily routine. I traded my pj pants, tank and hoodie for a jogging bra, tank and yoga pants. And, oh yeah, a hoodie.

oh! The variety!

I wear the bun every day because perhaps I dream of waking up tomorrow and suddenly having achieved Prima Ballerina status at ABT, or more likely, I hate having my hair in my face. I would love to rock one of those darling pixie cuts like that new doctor with the doe eyes on Grey's. She looks all Amelie-esque whereas I would just look like a boy.

Peoples Exibit A:

Submitted for your approval: Heather and I about age 7. Please not Dub's fabu Jennifer Aniston gold locks. That was short for Dub. Also please note my awesome bowl cut. A real bowl cut. My mom (who is in front of Dub and rocking her very OWN version of the bowl cut) used to for real plop me on the kitchen stool put a bowl on my noggin and cut around it with the sewing shears. If the Flowbee had been invented then, I would have been hooked up to that bad boy on the regular.

Right around the time this picture was taken my mom dragged me to the good old Olan Mills for a yearly portrait. And then it happened "What a gorgeous son you have!"

HARUMPH!! (and totally true. I looked like a boy.)

I was devastated. It was a scene that repeated regularly until 8th grade when I finally took charge and began to grow out my hair.

Max and I came home -Dear God, thank you for Anna Maria at gym daycare, she is the bestest- from the gym had a quick milk and snack and then he was ready to crash out big time.
I am then afforded some shower and blogging time! Hooray! As I took my hair down from it's scrubby bun I realized it was still wet from yesterdays shower, and oh my...it's grown! I had completely forgotten what my hair looked like!


After the gym and my shower (oh heavens! I will never take a hot shower for granted again!) I switched it up. Big time. Stripey pj pants, tank top, *gasp* long sleeve v-neck T-shirt and a pony tail.

Change is good, yo.