Take a moment and enjoy this brief musical interlude from the musical "Hair!" (You can keep reading while it plays, nothing happens on screen.)
"But on the plus side," said my mother, "you'll have the most beautiful head of hair!"
I'm growing out my hair because
a) it's something I do about every 10 years
b) I'm too lazy to go get it cut
c) the cost of getting a haircut in Denmark is about a weeks groceries for two adults without dietary restrictions
The beautiful hair I was expecting, however, was supposed to be on my head. This has not necessarily been the case.
I'm not just hairy here. I'm hairy here, there, and everywhere, momma! HAAAAIIIIIRRRRRR!
I am a naturally hairy person anyway. I trim my arm hair because it gets over 2 and a half inches long. That's like 10 centimeters, non-American folks. That's not arm hair, that's a freakin' pelt. My leg hair isn't a forest of earthly delight, it's the jungle. A bloody tropical rainforest. To wax I need to buy two waxing kits and expect to only some of the hair from the knees to the ankles. I tried an epilator once. Ever get your hair caught in the wrong end of your hair dryer? Yeah, it was like that. And that was before I got pregnant.
Pregnancy and it's hair giving hormones have really upped the ante. Whereas I had to pluck my eyebrows from time to time to keep them from becoming caterpillars, now I have to continually pluck to keep them from joining up with my hair line. Yes, my eyebrows and my head hair meet across my temples. Pull my hair back in a ponytail and I look like Mickey Rooney in "Breakfast at Tiffany's."
I have dark belly hair that I do not even know what to do about, apart from the obvious "don't wear a bikini!" I really couldn't anyway, I've got so much Down There Hair that the razor burn would be noticeable from the other end of the swimming pool. Not that I can see over my belly to shave. I'd have to hand the blades to my husband.
It's not that I don't trust him. It's just on the list of things I am not particularly inclined to ask my husband to do for me. I much prefer to ask him to accept me for who I am, hairy beast and all, and demand he tell me that I'm sexy.
I have hobbit feet. The hair on my toes is curly. Typical. I always wanted curly hair. I obviously forgot to include "on my head, not my feet kthnx" when I was wishing on stars.
My underarm hair grows faster than the weeds in the back yard. And like the weeds, they seem to be spreading.
But, let's look on the bright side! It's all VERY SOFT HAIR. Dark, thick, and luxurious. Soft as velvet. And about as densely packed. I now have a "nap" or "pile" to use textile terms. There is a reason the cat likes to cuddle with me, I'm fuzzy. In fact, this is me:
Only I have dark hair.
THEY tell me it's all going to go away after birth. I'll suddenly start losing the hair on my head. Bald spots will appear and they might not go away. Be grateful for the hair you have now! Revel in it's... uh... soft and furriness! Baldness awaits you!
Fabulous! Doesn't pregnancy sound better every time I talk about? I should give motivational speeches at high schools.
Dear teenage girl thinking of getting pregnant so your boyfriend won't ever leave you - is it worth hemorrhoids, a hairy belly and bald spots?? Is it really?! 'Cause I haven't even gotten to discharge, varicose veins and stretch marks yet. And that's just while you are pregnant!