A lick of dye

Few things lift my spirits like having my hair coloured. Today was the second of three visits to the hairdresser (planned with military precision) before the baby arrives. I hadn’t yet started avoiding reflective surfaces for fear of seeing my 2-inch roots, probably because the size of my belly is far too distracting at the moment. I went today because a couple of days ago my dear daughter told me that my hair had turned orange and that she didn’t like it. I wish everyone was as honest as six year olds are, maybe with a bit of tact thrown in.

She said it’s still orange but wanted to see what she looked like with orange hair anyway.


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  1. What a pretty pair! Your daughter is absolutely precious.

    I’m new to your blog via Gourmet Worrier. Congrats on your pregnancy. Really enjoying your writing.

  2. Aww!! Orange suits your little girl πŸ˜€

  3. She looks so grown up in her school uniform xx

  4. “planned with military precision” – hahaha! It’s so true. It looks wonderful and it suits Maia as well. Abby is always telling me I should color my hair red. I think she hopes it will make me look like Ariel. πŸ˜‰

  5. Hey Mau, just thought of you and wanted to say hello. I hope you are well


  6. Lovely, Mau! You make pregnancy look like a breeze.

    p.s. I laughed out loud when you called Hardy a sadist. πŸ™‚

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