Hair and Age... Are they Related?

Written the 30th of April, 2010 - Been planning to have my photo taken... but haven't yet... :O, so I'll just post this WITHOUT the photo(s).

I got my hair cut! And for those of you who are far away and have never seen me with really short hair... believe it or not, I went even shorter on this cut than I did on the last (...shorter than ever, again... but for the last time - I think :O) - It is in short layers - about 5-6 inches from the scalp... all the way up to the top!).

Now, I know it seems superficial to talk about a hair cut; but I had really long hair for most of my life, and having it cut short off and on the past few years has really been a new experience for me. It takes some getting used to! I told the beautician that I needed a style that I could go out in public with - straight from the beach (I fully intend to do a lot of swimming and sailing this summer). She told me the shorter I go, the easier it will be. I am way overly practical (working on not being too much that way) so I squinted my eyes and told her I would be brave and to just go for it. And even though it really does take some getting use to for me; I think I may actually look better in short hair (I hope :O).

OK, enough ramblings... I will have someone take photos of me so I can show you all what I look like now. But for now, I think I'll tell you about a few memories that sparked as a result of this new cut. :D (Just for fun. :)

First, I have to say that I find it interesting how different people view a person or a hair cut so differently. For example, a few people told me that I look younger with this cut, and a few people told me that the cut makes me look older. I have to admit - I'm not used to people telling me I look "older;" I didn't, AND STILL DON'T like it. Although, when Elisha said it she also added;

"Now you don't look like a 12 year old! -  LOL"

OK - I did enjoy that one statement about looking older; I also enjoyed being told this, after being told I looked older...

"No... not older, just more distinguished or sophisticated." 

:D OK... bring the comments on! :D

A few more people told me that I look younger. :D :D :D I wonder what I looked like to them, before the hair cut.

All this talk about my hair - attached to how old or young it made me look - got me to thinking about the visit I received from the local sheriff three years ago. Would you like to hear about it? Thought you would; OK... I'll tell.

I got that familiar knock on the door, in the middle of a cold winder day and wondered who would stop by unannounced during our homeschooling. As I entered the sun room and approach the glass front door, by heart began to beat a little faster; there stood a police officer. I wondered what had happened and hoped everything was OK.

"Are you the mother of the house? " he asked.

With my heart pounding and my mind in a whirl from wondering why he was at my door, told him yes and let him in.

"May I look around your house?" he asked.

I was a bit bothered by feeling interrogated right off the bat - in a nonverbal sort of way (not to mention, he had no warrant and it was clearly against my constitutional rights to have to oblige, according to the fourth amendment). But had nothing to hide and was feeling rather agreeable, so I answered, "OK, (sigh) what is going on?" The officer walked in with pen and paper in hand, as he glanced around to take everything in and made his way through the sun room and into the front room of the house as he explained;

"One of your neighbors anonymously reported that there are a bunch of teenagers living here with no adults."

"That's ridiculous!" I blared, "I'm a stay home mom; I homeschool my kids and I'm here with them all the time. Are you sure you have the right house?"

After discussing the address and verifying that this was the house, (as he looked around the front room for any safety issues as if I ran a daycare with 8 month olds crawling around) the officer began the interrogation...

"You have a couple of boys around the age of 11 or 12, and another around 8?"

"Somewhere around there, yes." I responded.

The interrogation continued...

"Is there a girl around the age of 15 living here?"

"Yes, that would be my daughter." I answered.

"And another girl around the age of 16?"

"No. There is only one teenage girl here. Are you sure you have the right house?" With that, he paused, looked at me in a strange sort of reflective way, then quickly spun around and headed for the door;

"Never mind" he said with haste.

"That was strange" I reflected, as he let himself out in a hurry. He was only here for 30 seconds and never even finished looking over the front room, let alone the rest of the house. And that strange abrupt way of leaving so suddenly; I wondered what that was all about.

And then it occurred to me; ...he realized that I was the one reported to be the "16 year old." I suppose with my hair pulled back in a pony tail, my baby face, and my in line Rollerblades on - I probably did look 16!

So, last night I told the women at RS this story after they told me that I looked older with my new hair cut, and added that as long as I still don't look my age - I supposed looking older was an OK thing. They all laughed and assured me that I will never look anywhere near my age. But at least I have something to laugh about! :D

I have to admit though... I really am getting older, and hope that this cut doesn't make me look... too old. :o Seriously, there is this awful... oh never mind - I refuse to make anyone who isn't already aware of it... aware! Moving on...~ LOL

When I was a teenager... looking older (ha ha), that is... younger was NEVER funny. I would have given real money to have looked my age, then. I recall being 14 and not going to any dances. I knew it would be a total waste of time. But at the age of 15 I was head over heels for a boy; I HAD TO GO!  I was so excited! :D! But when I got to the front doors where the chaperone's were there monitoring who came in, I was told to leave on account of not being old enough to be there (age requirement -14). I was mortified! I told the man that I was 15. He said, "look little girl, 12 is pushing it, but 15?!!!" I swear I must have looked pathetic, because I had to fight the tears from coming. I was humiliated. The boy I was crazy about came to my rescue with... "she really is 15." I was allowed to stay - but first I needed to go to the bathroom and recover from the trauma of it all in private (though I was followed and comforted by another fabulous friend! - Oh the drama of youth!).

Looking young followed me into adulthood. As a young mother of 4 children, every where I went I got stares that could have killed! I wanted to wear a sign that said, "yes, they are all mine; yes, they are all from the same father; and yes, we got married first."

It took a while for me to learn to appreciate looking young. Now, I absolutely LOVE IT! But now that I am finally aging... I want to continue looking young. Just... not too young! Which, (unfortunately) I don't believe I will have too much trouble with again. Sigh. Go figure!