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I conquered my frizzy hair…and other cool stuff that happened last weekend.

posted Apr 20, 2012, 12:25 PM by Becca K.

Let me say this, my tale will not be as cool as the one written by Becky.  It won’t even be part of a 3 part series.  And while I was stoked about the Band Back Together 2013 calendar, I needed not risk life and limb for it.  I just needed to conquer my hair.  I needed it straight.  A task more difficult than…insert your favorite witty analogy here.

My hair.  In first grade it was straight-as-a-board straight.  Then came puberty some years later and the curls came with.  Then came pregnancy and the curls took on a life of their own. 

See what Natalie has to look forward to?  Poor girl is showing signs of it already.

From time to time I do straighten it.  But that takes work.  And time.  And a hair dryer, a curling iron with a 1 ½ inch barrel, and a straightening iron, and lots and lots of smoothing serum.  And frankly, it doesn’t always stay – humidity and wind in Northern Illinois screwing with my hair.

And so, I took a shower.  I blow dried it.  That alone took 15 minutes.  I slathered on the Redken Rewind* and pulled it through the iron.  Then I went to church with the family.  My hair was rocking.   And my eyes may have been a bit too smoky for church, but it was what it was.

After church, I redid the process – this time pulling through with the straightening iron followed by the 1 ½ inch barreled curing iron.  And it looked good.  It was strait.

I looked up at the cloudy sky and prayed that the rain would stay away.  At least until after I got my pretty pictures taken.

I got to my photographer’s house.  She was ready for me. 

I smiled.  I haven’t had pictures taken of just me since the fall of 1994, when I was a senior in high school. 

It was surreal.  I felt pretty.  I felt like me.    I wasn’t just Natalie’s mom.  I wasn’t just the liver donor.  I wasn’t me + 70 pounds.  I was just me.

And then Natalie joined me for some of the pictures. 

She took this one of me on our way to the shoot (we were being silly):

*They don’t know me.  They don’t pay me.