It’s event week at the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and we are gearing up for Nebraska’s Finest — an event to honor those who have made outstanding contributions to the CF community. The event features silent and live auctions and delectable dinner tastings from Omaha restaurants. Event weeks are always a whirlwind and I generally find myself losing much needed beauty sleep as I lie awake thinking of the work I could be getting done during the wee small hours of the morning.
In preparation for the event I made a visit to my hair gal, Tiffaney, last evening. Although I love Tiffaney, I may have to take a hiatus from her for the duration of my expanding status. The girl resembles Jennifer Love Hewitt and could easily don the clothes I would otherwise use to dress a 13 year old. How is one supposed to feel cute and pregnant when surrounded by beautiful people all the time? Thank goodness Hollywood has not yet discovered me … I can’t imagine standing next to Keira Knightley and Nicole Richie right now.
Since joining the motherhood mob I’ve quit getting my hair sheared short due to my Santa Clause phenomenon. I would leave my super cool and trendy salon with a hip, fun haircut and three days later, I would wake up, look in the mirror and sure enough, my hair had grown out. Between that and my expanding waist line, I am starting to believe that perhaps, Tim Allen has deemed me the next Mother Christmas. Darn prenatal hormones. This would be great for ladies who look hot and sexy with long, flowing locks but is totally crappy for a girl whose face looks fatter with each inch of hair that appears on her head. So, I got my hair hacked off once again and hope to avoid any Tim Allen moments in the upcoming days.
Today, Shannon popped into the office between meetings to bid us hello and Melissa and I were chatting it up. As she ran out to her next meeting, we talked momentarily about the election and other world-changing events and Shannon paused and said “You look like a mom”. My jaw dropped. I stopped right in my tracks. I could barely shut my mouth to muster out the word “Whhhhaaa?”. Melissa covered her mouth and tried to hide her face. It is one thing to be pregnant…to be expecting a little bundle of bliss. It is an entirely different thing to be a mom…and yet a whole other thing to have a mom haircut. Who wants to have a mom haircut? Next thing you know, I’ll be wearing highwater jeans that ride up to my boobs and walking around with macaroni and cheese crusted up in my hair. I was just getting used to the idea of being pregnant and suddenly, I have apparently made the transition mommydom?! Whoa there buddy… hold your horses. Although I am sure that the moment I deliver, I will love being told I look like a mom, I guess I always pictured the first time I heard those words, the word cool, awesome, best ever or maybe even hot would accompany the label.
