shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen

One morning, I woke up, and my hair was curly instead of straight.

Okay. So maybe the transformation wasn't that dramatic, but it feels like it's been. Save for two exceptions, I've always styled my hair in some version of the classic bob, but since Baby Beeton's birth, my hair has been slowly falling out. And, the hair that's coming in isn't straight; it's curly, which means my sleek bob can no longer be contained. I've had to find a whole other way to wear my hair.

In the grand scheme of all things that a new baby brings, this change in my hair isn't really that significant. But, to me, it serves as a tangible manifestation of just how different I've felt since Baby Beeton's arrival. It's hard to explain this feeling to people, how, most days, I don't recognize myself. Most people don't understand. Having a baby changes things, they tell me. And, I understand that. But having a baby shouldn't change you this much. It shouldn't make you unrecognizable to yourself. In the moments where I begin to doubt my sanity, to wonder if what I'm feeling is actually true, I look in the mirror. My hair, for me, confirms these changes.

Thankfully, there are more and more moments lately where I feel a glimmer of my old self sneak to the surface.  I had one the other night, standing in the middle of Dupont Circle after a wonderful dinner at the Cosmos Club (D.C.'s country club for intellectuals). Mr. Beeton's parents had come into town to babysit Baby Beeton (thank you, Grammy and Papa!), and Mr. Beeton and I had our third night out alone since Baby Beeton was born. There was good food, interesting discussions. And walking back in the dark through Dupont Circle to our car, I began to feel like everything might one day be right again. In that moment, I knew that my old self was coming back, however slowly.

When I look in the mirror, I try to remind myself that once before - in college - my hair totally went haywire. And, at that time, I did the same thing I'm doing now. I let it grow; I got some layers; I didn't try to fight it; and I rode it out. It may be only in my imagination, but I feel like when my old hair made a reappearance it was even better than ever. I've got my fingers crossed.

Keep sweeping, Martha