Hairdressers….

September 9, 2008

are a funny breed of people.  I owe a hairdresser a lot because that is who introduced me to my husband so I mean no offense.  Quite the contrary, they just fascinate me.  I know women who will tell their hairdressers things that they wouldn’t tell their closest friends.  Where is this coming from, you ask?

Well.  On Saturday, in the middle of Hurricane Hanna, I had a hair appointment.  Worst hair cut of my life.  Not kidding.  So, so bad.  I can only liken it to a “mushroom with feet attached.”  This was a new hairdresser, my old one abandoned me and moved back to TN.  I hearted her because she was “offspring challenged” as well.  Anywho, I debated on what to do and on Monday, called the owner to see if she would advise me on how to “fix it.”  She insisted that I come back in and meet with another hairdresser and that’s how I met Emily.

Emily was able to fix the problem for the most part – it’s a totally cute cut, I no longer look like I am toting a mushroom with feet on my head.  However, this is not a blog about hair or haircuts, right?  Emily asked THE question.  You know, THE question…

Emily: “So, do you have kids?”

Me: “Ummmmm, well…..That’s a toughy there Emily, it’s complicated but yes, I do.  I have twins boys that I lost in April.”

Remember, I told y’all that I was going to be honest with people.  I have to be.  I’m not going to heal unless I am honest with myself and people around me eventhough I know that as soon as those word leave my mouth, my relationship with this person is forever changed.  It’s the “Elephant” right? (see LifeAfterLevi’s post).

Emily:  “Oh I am so sorry.  Oh my god, I am so, so sorry.”

And here’s where it gets interesting.  Normally people express their condolences and then quick change the subject.  Obviously I don’t want to talk about it right?  Wrong.  I do want to talk about it but I can’t say that to a stranger because that would be weird, right?  I want to tell you that I fought hard for them, that I loved them from the minute that pee stick lit up, that I miss them every second of every minute of every day, that I still can’t go in the “nursery” without my heart hurting.  But a stranger doesn’t want to know that – too personal, right?

Emily: “So tell me about them.”

Me: “What?  Wait, what?”

Emily: “If you want to talk about it, I would love to hear about your boys…”

Huh?  What?  Wait?  What? So I am either very obviously in a lot of pain (I think I hid it well) or she’s just a nice, caring person who really did know that I want to talk about them.  I talk about them a lot with Kelly and Robin and Gretchen but they have heard it all, not much more to tell.  Some of the mommies who read this blog email me and we talk about our babies but here is someone who has no vested interest in me and she wants to hear a very painful and sad, mascara-ruining story.  And she said, “my boys.”  Kelly says that and it makes me smile every time.  “My boys.”  Yes, they are mine, aren’t they?  Anywho, so Emily’s either masochistic or used to being a good shoulder to cry on.  Since I am trying to find the good in people and be positive about things….I’ve decided it’s the latter.

And she’s a damn good hairdresser too.

 

I am sorry that I have been a little MIA, I do animal rescue work and Hurricane Gustav is kicking my butt plus my mother in law is coming in 2 days and I had a whole spare room to put together.  I will be better about posts but really, thank you for all the concerned notes I got, I feel loved…..

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