S was up every two hours last night – crying like a newborn baby. And why???? Well, I’m not quite sure.

“Are you sick?”

“NOOOO!” he’d wail.

“Is something upsetting you?”

“NOOO!” he’d cry.

And I’d rock him, sing to him, tell him a story and he’d just sob. Then he’d fall asleep and 2 hours later …..

At 4 in the morning I went into the bathroom to get a cool wet washcloth and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Expecting to see a ragged, depleted image, you could imagine my surprise when I instantly noticed…. My hair has NEVER looked better!

Like soap opera hair.

I mean, I could have been delirious with exhaustion, but I did take about 5 seconds to really look at myself, and indeed I believe, even after countless haircuts and some fancy blowdries, my hair has never been more perfectly styled; curls falling in the places their cut meant for them to go, sans friz, with bounce, weight and movement… why couldn’t I have run into that hot guy I dated in my 20’s (who is now even hotter) tonight, right now – instead of that day when my hair was just a single puff of brillo sponge? Why couldn’t I be having my photo taken for my holiday cards right now or be out to dinner or at the very least, at preschool pick up where a mom might say to me how do you have time to get your hair done? and I’d just laugh and shrug and say What? This?

His last night wake up was around 6am. Then awoke for the morning at 9:30.  He can’t explain why he was waking up all night; no nightmares or pains….

Maybe it was just all some psychic way for my hair to cry for help: Hey! We can get it together, OK? Look! At us! Care about us! Don’t write us off yet! Don’t throw in the towel!

Or… maybe I’m delirious.

I’d take a photo of my hair for you now… but of course…. now it looks like shit.