It all started when it was time for me to spruce up the roots situation with a box o' blonde. I topped off the baby with a fresh shot of milk and saw to it that my toddler was busy playing games on the computer with daddy and got to work. Literally moments after slathering toxic goop all over my head, the baby started to cry. Allow me to describe what I was wearing at the time: nursing bra, yoga pants, plastic gloves covered in hair dye. What does one do in this situation? There is no chapter in the Dr. Sears book that covers this particular dilemma.
Next thing I knew, my husband was approaching me with the crying baby in his arms. I held my hands up, giving him the international gesture for "I have hair dye on my hands and can't breastfeed my baby". My husband, bless his heart, unlatched my nursing bra and held up our sweet innocent son up to the milk source while I stood there with my gloved hands above my head, marveling at the ridiculousness of the situation. Nothing makes you feel more like a mom than hands-free nursing with a head full of L'Oreal.
Let it just be said that I believe my marriage has been tested and has been found to be sound. And my roots look pretty damn good.