Thursday, 15 November 2012
Thirty
Wowzers! what a week. I might have
to split it into a couple of entries, lets see how I get on.
Last Friday My Brilliant Sister, her boy and I drove up to London for my birthday lunch with my lovely ladies who lunch (they don't just lunch, some of them also have ridiculously successful careers, they all have at least two children - most of them have four, and they are also all busy doing nice things for other people - currently in training for the eyebrow run!) There were just enough small children and lots of yummy food. They clubbed together and gave me an H&M voucher for the scarf top or apron/skirt I so wanted, My God-Mother Auntie has kindly given me a cheque for the other.
My Pixie crop has grown very quickly and had pretty much lost all style, I had tried to update my look from ageing Coronation Street mother to edgy young girl about town with a largely unsuccessful home dye job but to no avail. I was incredibly lucky to pull my trusted hairdresser out of maternity leave for a one-cut-only Friday afternoon special. I tried to convince her to turn me into a bleach blond goddess but apparently your not allowed to dye your hair whilst on chemo (sssshhhhh!). She did however refashion my mop into a much shorter and edgier proper pixie crop which I LOVED!
Now, this is not something you'll hear me say very often about my own hair. I am applauded for being ever so brave and trying lots of different colours and styles but the truth is I just get bored very quickly and am always convinced that the next cut / colour will be THE ONE. My long suffering husband now knows that I always like my hair best just before it's due for a cut, it then takes me about two months to like whatever the new style is and then I change it again. My hairdresser and I are a match made in heaven, over the last seven years she has listened, looked, researched and humoured me and then always added her own clever twist. She has managed over the years to tame my over-thick, mousy, wiry, not curly, not straight, not wavy, frizzy mop into some rather fetching shapes and colours. Friday was no exception and I came away refreshed.
On Saturday morning I woke up, and as I have every morning since chemo 1. felt to see if my hair was falling out, it seemed ok. We had a lazy family day with a pregnant stunner of a friend who we dragged halfway across Kent in the rain so I would have a good night's sleep. She was very good natured as we clambered over styles and crossed babbling brooks. As a matter of fact I don't think I've ever seen her not being good natured in the 20 years I have known her.
Daughter 1 went on the mother of all sleepovers which included a trip to London on the train to see Shrek the Musical and apparently finally going to sleep at gone 2am. Daughter 2 got to hang out with me on the sofa watching the Muppets!
On Sunday I donned my new velvet shorts (over very black tights - I am 37, not 17!) and we trundled off to the pub where we were joined by a large group of Happy Birthday well wishers. The pub was ramajammed and I got more presents than I've ever received before. It was brilliant! Some of us went for a lovely country walk, the weather held out and a fab day was had by all.
Last Friday My Brilliant Sister, her boy and I drove up to London for my birthday lunch with my lovely ladies who lunch (they don't just lunch, some of them also have ridiculously successful careers, they all have at least two children - most of them have four, and they are also all busy doing nice things for other people - currently in training for the eyebrow run!) There were just enough small children and lots of yummy food. They clubbed together and gave me an H&M voucher for the scarf top or apron/skirt I so wanted, My God-Mother Auntie has kindly given me a cheque for the other.
My Pixie crop has grown very quickly and had pretty much lost all style, I had tried to update my look from ageing Coronation Street mother to edgy young girl about town with a largely unsuccessful home dye job but to no avail. I was incredibly lucky to pull my trusted hairdresser out of maternity leave for a one-cut-only Friday afternoon special. I tried to convince her to turn me into a bleach blond goddess but apparently your not allowed to dye your hair whilst on chemo (sssshhhhh!). She did however refashion my mop into a much shorter and edgier proper pixie crop which I LOVED!
Now, this is not something you'll hear me say very often about my own hair. I am applauded for being ever so brave and trying lots of different colours and styles but the truth is I just get bored very quickly and am always convinced that the next cut / colour will be THE ONE. My long suffering husband now knows that I always like my hair best just before it's due for a cut, it then takes me about two months to like whatever the new style is and then I change it again. My hairdresser and I are a match made in heaven, over the last seven years she has listened, looked, researched and humoured me and then always added her own clever twist. She has managed over the years to tame my over-thick, mousy, wiry, not curly, not straight, not wavy, frizzy mop into some rather fetching shapes and colours. Friday was no exception and I came away refreshed.
On Saturday morning I woke up, and as I have every morning since chemo 1. felt to see if my hair was falling out, it seemed ok. We had a lazy family day with a pregnant stunner of a friend who we dragged halfway across Kent in the rain so I would have a good night's sleep. She was very good natured as we clambered over styles and crossed babbling brooks. As a matter of fact I don't think I've ever seen her not being good natured in the 20 years I have known her.
Daughter 1 went on the mother of all sleepovers which included a trip to London on the train to see Shrek the Musical and apparently finally going to sleep at gone 2am. Daughter 2 got to hang out with me on the sofa watching the Muppets!
On Sunday I donned my new velvet shorts (over very black tights - I am 37, not 17!) and we trundled off to the pub where we were joined by a large group of Happy Birthday well wishers. The pub was ramajammed and I got more presents than I've ever received before. It was brilliant! Some of us went for a lovely country walk, the weather held out and a fab day was had by all.
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