Where is my hair?

I haven't had my hair professionally cut since I was pregnant. M cut it for me after Boo was born, just to get it off my face. So I decided it was time to get the mom cut. I asked for it to my shoulders. But she kept cutting and cutting. And now it's to my ears. M is traumatized. I am adjusting. I have gotten a few compliments on it, and Boo can't grab it as easily. Still -- it's my hair. I feel like a boy. This is why I hate the hairdresser.

Rebel rebel, your hair is a mess

With apologies to David Bowie.

I have very thick, naturally curly hair. I also am extremely lazy about taking care of it, i.e., getting my roots done and regular haircuts. I honestly can't tell you the last time it was cut, much to M's delight. It's halfway down my back, and in the humid weather, it puffs up like Roseanne Roseannadanna's. I go through phases where I want to chop it all off, and then M begs and pleads with me to keep it long. Maybe I ought to make an appointment. Just a trim, M, I promise. And some color!