Monday...

It's Monday, and you know what that means--tomorrow I get to leave the house! I get to put on shoes, slap on some lipstick and go pee in a cup! It's a "boring" appointment tomorrow--just "how's things?", take the blood pressure, "any questions?" and then, back home. Next Thursday is the ultrasound with the perinatalogist, but I guess my regular OB wants in on some of the post-cerclage action, so I go see them every other week, too...

Usually before a doctor's appointment, I obsess about shaving my legs and trying to look presentable under the little flimsy sheet they give you to "wear" while you wait, and wait...and wait for the doctor. But today, looking in the mirror, my focus moved significantly north to another rough spot that no sheet at the doctor's office is going to cover.

My eyebrows...oh my god, what has become of me? They are practically growing from eyeball to hair line. I wish I were exaggerating.

I discovered the magic of plucking and waxing way back in the comfort of the "helicopter-landing pad yellow" bathroom of my teeny tiny NH apartment. It was a moment of pure joy---who knew that a little pluck here and a bit of carefully placed wax there could open and lift the eye; I looked like a different person (at least to myself). I have even paid a few gruff-voiced spa professionals to shape and perfect my brows, although I generally appreciate it more if I do the work myself.

But what is going on now??? It has been six weeks since I was allowed to stand up for more than a few minutes at a time and those few precious minutes are usually spent on something more seemingly significant, like...oh, i don't know, walking back and forth to the bathroom, standing in the shower, putting on my clothes. I guess in my desire to limit those "above 45 degrees" moments, I have neglected the finer things, like my tweezers and mirror. That's a good 10 minutes of standing, sometimes on tip-toes, and leaning forward over the sink to get a good view in the mirror.

Sigh. I simply can't afford that kind of foot-time. And so the little eyebrow hairs that I have so stubbornly beaten back for years on end are cautiously making their way back to the surface and then, much to my horror and chagrin, finding no challenge, they grow and grow.

It doesn't seem like a big deal and perhaps I am being overwhelmed by my own vanity today. But when you consider I am the first face this child will see, it suddenly becomes more significant. I don't want this kid's first thought to be, "Wow, my mom looks like a mad scientist. Check out that uni-brow"....