Where's that hair from?

Those aren't grey hairs, they're strands of glitter growing from my hair. -Unknown

I used to think it was funny when my mom had a “granny hair.” 

You know the ones, the hairs that grow uncontrollably out of your chin?

Well, mine have started. Only they’re coming out of my forehead, not my chin.

My husband does say I’m a unicorn. That’s his sweetness showing, telling me I’m his unique unicorn. Now I have proof that he’s right: I have hairs growing where my horn would be. (I'm not the first one to reach this awesome conclusion, clearly, read here, but be warned of language.)

My mom’s as great moral support about it as I likely was for her — “reach up there and pull that baby,” was her response.

No thanks, mom. Never mind I made the discovery on my way to a work-related meeting, during which I hoped that no one noticed the white/blond horn on my head. 

My grey hairs are showing up, too. Not that it’s a major crisis. My brother was about my age when he started getting gray hair — it made him look distinguished and was far more appealing than the idea of going bald for him.

In my case, I was pretty sure they were there, but my hair has these little naturally blonde streaks, which made it hard to see.

But then, one day, while at work, I looked down and sticking out from the mass of thick, wavy hair gracing the front of my shoulder was a big, thick, strand of white, curly hair.

I sent my mom a picture of that. She thought it was thread.

No mom, pretty sure I checked.

I guess this seems a bit of an aging crisis post; it’s not meant to be. Just surprised.

I’m 28, 29 in September. Isn’t it funny how we always think we aren’t “old enough” for these things to hit us yet? I swear, it feels like I was in high school a blink ago.

I mean, I’m always in someone’s high school, because of work. When I’m there, it becomes very apparent how old I really am. I see these young men and women and I wonder, was I ever that young? 

That’s when it seems a lifetime ago.

Isn’t it so strange how life changes, how we change, as we age? Somedays, I don’t feel like I should be old enough to have this sheer amount of responsibility, this amount of aches, this much gray hair … and then other days I feel so in my stride. 

Sometimes I own it, and it feels awesome.

Other days, I wonder who agreed I could buy a house.

I get so amazed seeing people I went to high school with, when I run into them with their families, their children. My brother is a father of two. One of my best friends has an-almost 3-year-old. Another is looking to buy a house herself. And my dear cousin, who I remember a slew of sleepovers and getting into trouble with, has bought her own place a few hours from us.

I just get amazed at what my friends are doing.

I’m thankful God is letting me see it.

I know the world is tough, sometimes, but I love how there’s the little bits of awesome. 

The release of the day I feel when I come home and am greeted by Luna, Bucket and Spaz. The fun Jim and I have with friends.

The love I feel when I see M smile while doing something with her dad. The way it makes my heart happy to see him loving her.

The joy my heart has when I hear the laughter of my beautiful nieces.

The smile on my grandmother’s face when she is surrounded by family.

The way my husband makes me feel with a simple hug or touch.

The amazing love I witness between my mom and dad.

The peace God gives me during my morning prayer times.

The world is hard, but there is beauty. We age, but we can have fun along the way. Be sure to find the fun, the beauty and the love.

And never forget the blessing of our Creator — that’s what makes it all worthwhile.


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