Around the time of my third miscarriage, I had grown to hate that hair styling tool meant to blow dry my hair into beautiful locks. It never did. Instead, I would labor in front of the mirror getting sweatier by the minute, blowing that darned heat in the direction of the wet mop on my head and willing it to style my hair so I wouldn't have to use the straightener. Alas, my wavy tresses made that impossible. And my kids made the task not only tedious but life-threatening as they attempted to touch the socket, grab the hot straightener, and cause all kinds of havoc with their sweet, little hands.
I decided to shower and work out at night.
Once we arrived in MO, and started medical school, things shifted yet again. With Ben's schedule changing weekly, there are nights he is at home and nights he is gone and no advanced warning as to which it will be. It fully depends on his homework load and his studying pace. As my love for mornings dwindled with each pregnancy, I have scorned the thought of getting up before my children. Surely there would be opportunities to workout and shower at night. But here we are, 2 months into our routine, and I still don't have a routine.
Did any of you read NPR's article entitled "Prioritizing Health or Hair?" I am sure the idea in this--that women are choosing their locks over their health--caused quite a few guffaws from educated readers. Unless they were moms. I mean, who has time to exercise AND look beautiful? When I actually find the energy to straighten my hair, do you really think I'm going to ruin it by exercising? Heck no.
For many of you readers, you must remember me bemoaning the 20 lbs I gained from birth control. I ditched the evil pill and am now contending with the extra weight. Clearly I must decide between styling my hair and exercising--it's one or the other folks.
I think I might go back to AM exercising. My kids don't wake up at night so I really don't have an excuse for limited Z's until I remember that IT'S THE MORNING. Who wakes up just to sweat in the morning?
So I blame my hair for my extra weight.
Until I remember that I don't do my hair, either. Drat.