Ugh. I am over my hair. Several months ago, I read an article wherein Gwyneth Paltrow claimed that her prenatal vitamins were responsible for the lusciousness of her overly-long (really, would it kill her to cut off a few inches? She’s starting to look like Cousin It…) double-processed locks of hair. She takes the same exact vitamins that I’ve been taking EVERY DAY for three years now. And yet her hair looks like it looks, all shiny and healthy, and mine, well my hair, which is NOT PROCESSED AT ALL, just keeps breaking off and is frizzy and unkempt and I just don’t know what to do about it anymore. I even went so far as to cut most of it off last Friday, so now my own formerly long hair reaches barely past my shoulders. And still, it’s a mess. And I am miserable. The texture of my hair is a nightmare to begin with, not quite wavy, not quite straight, just big. And oh my God, there is so much of it. I swear I have the thickest hair in the world. And the Texas humidity just sends it over the edge. I could spend a half-hour blowing it out, and step outside to grab the paper and pouf! It’s shrunken into a kinky mess and ends up in a tight little bun at the top of my head.

In other news, Coco had her first set of shots this morning, at her 2-month check-up, and as my husband is on a flight to LA for the day, I had to take her myself with Pea in tow. Boy, that was fun. Pea, who is a tremendously independent little girl, morphed into this clingy little cry-baby as soon as it became clear to her that this visit to our beloved pediatrician was about someone else. I managed, but won’t pretend it wasn’t a little stressful. Not going to venture out like that again without my husband’s help.