My fear of getting my haircut with the baby

When I was on maternity leave with my eldest I'm fairly sure I only got my hair cut once. One of my friends who was a hairdresser came over and gave me a cut and colour. As she was putting the colour on my hair M started fussing and wanted a feed, but I couldn't get her to latch on. I don't know if she was distressed by the chemical smell or if she was confused because I didn't smell like me, either way it was distressing for both of us.

Baby asleep in Bugaboo Bee pushchair
Phew!
Recently I've got in the habit of booking my next hair appointment as I'm paying. This has the benefit that I get a discount and that in 3 months time when I'm thinking "my hair is a state, it needs to be cut", I receive a text from the hairdressers reminding me my next haircut is imminent.

When I got my hair cut at 8 months pregnant I booked the next appointment for roughly 2 months after my due date. I thought I could probably manage it by then. For some strange reason I thought that 9.45am would be a sensible time. Clearly in the 4 years since I had last had a newborn I had forgotten that getting up and out of the house could take a while.

I headed to the appointment yesterday full of fear about whether I would have to leave with half my hair cut and half in a tangle. To make it more of an adventure I took the buggy out in the car for the first time. I have been wearing Little in the sling everywhere, but I didn't think that was possible under the special hairdresser cloaks. Is the material breathable? What would happen is if she needed a feed? Was she going to have a hairy side dish to her milk?

Impressively I arrived at the hairdressers spot on time. We'll stay quiet about me not having had a shower. My hairdresser was halfway through giving a lady highlights so I immediately got wound up. It ended up being a 15 minute wait until she was available, given the cut would only take half an hour this was a big delay and meant I couldn't go to a baby group I had wanted to try out.

It turned out the 15 minutes was a good thing. As I sipped on my water and nibbled through a bowl of Lindor chocolates I rocked the buggy and got Little to sleep. Despite the music and the noise Little slept through the appointment waking only at the end as my hair was being blow dried.

So I survived. My hair was bouncy and clean. The rest of me smelled and was several pounds heavier thanks to the chocolate.

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