Gettin' Wiggy Wit It

Obviously the hair came off. I will not say that having a cancer conversation with a 5 and 3-year-old was easy. Both of the girls processed the news in their own way. The hair thing to them, like me, was the pressing issue.

I will say we talked, we read, we cried, we hugged, we shaved. All of us.

I sat in the bathroom on a stool and the girls each took a turn taking some off. I would like to thank my husband for his attention to detail and his steady hand. In hindsight we probably should have done a Mohawk for a little bit, but since I am hoping to never, ever have to shave my head again, I will not consider it a regret.

I will also say that I didn't look in the mirror. Not at first. I showered and saw the outline of my head reflected back in a steam-covered mirror. I caught a glimpse of myself in a reflection off of the window, but I didn't own up to it, confront it or embrace it until hours later when I finally looked.

And then I thought. . . It's been seven hours and fifteen days. . . Look, I am not going to rip up any pictures of the pope, but it is very Sinead circa 1990, and until the rest of the hair falls out I am going to try and own it.

The wig is itchy, but I told the girls that I would wear it when we are out in public. I also said that when I was home that it would probably come off. There is a time in every day when my rings come off, my bra comes off, and that my friends, is when the wig comes off.

I did wear the wig to my sister's that same day. All of a sudden you realize that it isn't just your own kids who have to be prepared. It is nieces and nephews, cousins and friends. I could tell that my sister had prepped the Wild Woman for my arrival. When we walked in the door I could see her looking at me and trying to process it. She then said, "I like, I like, I like you."

I like you too Wild Woman.

Here is a picture of me in the salon when I picked up the wig. Note how perfectly it is parted. Let me just say that I have never been able to recreate the top part and that just like when I had real hair, I am barely even brushing this thing. I feel very suburban mom in this thing. Not that I am not a suburban mom, but it seems very styled to me. Although, I do love the color. This photo doesn't do the nice warm highlights justice.

For those of you who thought we should go hot pink. Here is a pic of me and the Lady in our hot pink wigs sent to us with special care from my cousin in Chicago. Val, the Ladies couldn't have been happier! Will post a family pic of all of us in the wigs, please note that my husband's noggin is too large but I am sure we will figure something out.

Here is a pic of QT in my wig. We shaved my head when he was napping and when he woke up to my bald head he didn't even bat an eye.