My Life. Medication Optional.

I don't know what my blogging voice is.  I thought I would pick a topic and write on it, like parenting or health.  The problem is, I do a lot of things and a lot of stuff happens to me (okay, not really) and I like to talk about a bunch of different stuff.  So I don't know what I'm trying to say with my blog, but so far no one is reading, so it's okay.

In other news:

I did get my haircut and after the first day of insecurity, I adore it.  It's cute, easy to style and it's much more versatile than I thought short hair would be. I keep flipping it around like a dork. 

The potty training thing stalled out.  She was so not into it.  She's started talking about going potty, so I think in a week when Mr. TWoP has some time off, we'll try again.

It snowed last night.  I hate snow.

Confession: I am watching 7th Heaven right now.  I'm that cool.

It turns out that in my head I look (feel) completely different than pictures show.  I forget that I have a birth defect, I forget that I have all the extra skin on my neck, to me, I look totally normal.  Hell, to be honest, after losing all the weight, I feel great about myself. 

It normally doesn't occur to me to worry about it, but I've been thinking about cutting my hair.  It's not super long, just about 3 inches past my shoulders, but I'd like to cut it to hit my shoulders.  When I started thinking about it, the first thing I thought of was how it would look.  And not in the normal, 'Will this look cute on me?' way, but in a 'Will this camouflage my neck enough?'  And it's really bothering me that I thought that.

I went to see a cosmetic surgeon in October.  I wanted to know if he could fix it.  If I could look normal.  He told me that for $15,000 and probably three surgeries, he could give me 'a minimal difference that only I would notice'.  Well, damn.  I figured that was that, you know?  It wasn't feasible, I should be over it, right?  I had all the confirmation I needed that it wasn't going to change for me and I could accept my body the way it was. 

I thought I had, but just thinking about cutting my hair has brought it all back.  I want to have short hair, I want to enjoy the freedom of not like a particular shirt more because it covers my neck.  I want to wear tank tops without being self-conscious.  I want to see in pictures what I see in the mirror.