The Brink. A Scary Place.

Children. They have the ability to push you to the brink of a nervous breakdown and promptly snap you right back to reality. Just when you're about to plop them in the cot and then run into the woods never to be seen again, they look at you with a gummy smile and you realise you have to push on, one foot in front of the other.

Right up until Wednesday midday, I had reached the point of a breakdown. I hadn't had a good night's sleep in over a month. I was feeling drab, bland, overweight and worthless. Nothing seemed to be going my way. I had lost complete and utter control and could not see a way through. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn't like the brunette staring back. Lifeless. In a haste I rushed to Priceline and purchased a home dye kit. You can imagine what happened next. 

Two hours later, a bright orange clown stared back. Correction, a half blonde, half orange clown stared back. I lost it, burst into tears whilst my baby slept. I was hosting mother's group the next day and I had to head back to my mountain home. I stopped at a French bakery for some maracons and panier in the morning. $50 later, my heart sinking after parting with so much cash due to lack of foreplanning, I hit the road.

I got home and stared at myself in the mirror. How can I go to a hairdresser in my small town? I will be judged and talked about, the crazy lady that dyed her hair orange when she lost her mind. How can I go to a salon with a baby? Paralyzed, my baby crying in the other room. I. Can't. Do. This. Anymore. HELP.

I went back in and picked up my baby. He smiled at me, he looked adoringly, so relieved that I had come back. OK, I can do this. 

I called a salon, and they booked me in the next day. Bring the baby, they said. I had to work through it. My partner was reassuringly calm. He told me to get my hair done whenever I wanted, forget about the cost, if it made you feel good. The girls arrived for mother's group. We discussed our feelings, all of us at some point had felt they were sprialling out of control. That they couldn't do it, the depression and feeling like having a baby was a mistake. It was so cathartic. My good friend whom I had known before we had kids gave me the firmest, most reassuring hug. 

The next day, I went to the salon. Oh, it was a nightmare. Whenever I wasn't looking at my baby, he cried. I am sure I upset all the other customers. The apprentice had to go and take him for a walk. 

I am back from the brink. My house is a filthy mess, and I still rummage around my closet for clothes that don't make me look like a leg of ham in strung in a fishnet. There is still a bit of orange in my hair. 

But I made it through.