Hair

This morning while the kids were emerging from their cozy beds and popping their heads into the kitchen to greet the day, I stood still, paused my breakfast preparation and took in my beautiful girls.

Look at Elizabeth's hair today.  I think it's so cute.  Her hair is getting curlier as she matures, but she seems to be taking it all in stride.  She's gotten some helpful tips from her mother who's been dealing with curls for quite some time and has every known curl product known to man in her bathroom closet.  You just never know if this product could be the one - the miracle product.

I loved her 'do' this morning.

Kelli made her appearance.

Her hair is not as curly as Elizabeth's or mine but it is thick.  Crazy thick.  Beautiful, shiny, wavy, thick hair.  Lovely.

Then there's mine.

My hair was still wet at this point so the fuzz that has been plaguing it lately, hadn't arrived.  It showed up about an hour after this picture was taken.

Unusually curly. Greying.  Fuzzy.  Fuzzy? Wait..... is there a song here?
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear.
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair.
If Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair,
then Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't really fuzzy
was he?

I'm fuzzy. My last name is not Wuzzy.  I have hair.  My girls aren't fuzzy. Their last name is also not Wuzzy.  They have beautiful hair.  How come I'm fuzzy and they are not? Where did my fuzzy hair come from? Is it my hormones? I believe hormones are the root of all evil.  Why can't my hair look cute and lovely?  I'm their mother. My hair should be like their hair.  It's not.  It's fuzzy. I'm puzzled.

Add it to my list of things I just don't understand.  I should scratch my head in puzzlement but it would just add to the fuzz.

Over and out.

And fuzzy.