I’ve been busy since getting the news that my contract would not be renewed next year.

Obviously the left photo is before, even though I had long since retired wearing my hair down in favor of my classic, time-for-a-haircut, Det. Odafin Tutuola braid. I decided to chop my hair off, and it is shorter than it’s been in almost 20 years.

Last year after Hannah was born I went to a local salon for a basic haircut to get me through new motherhood. I didn’t even take a single picture of it, because I’m not sure it ever had a chance to breathe before going up into an endless stream of ponytails. So my last real cut with real photos was two years ago (yes, I am still sadly on a one-haircut-per-year rotation…childhood anxieties die hard!). And I thought this was pretty short and bold for me:

But I don’t know…there was something about the experience of being non-tenured and losing my job, combined with the continuing angst of finishing out the school year knowing I won’t be back, that was weirdly liberating. I worked hard and loved my job, loved the students, had great ideas and plans for the future of my library. I’m a damn good librarian, and I was happy building my community there. And in the end that didn’t matter so much.

And I had this epiphany that I’ve always felt like a bit of a square peg at work. In most jobs I’ve had, really. Like I was holding back pieces of myself to try and fit the persona of the place. I was quieter than I am in “real life”, I held back the things I really wanted to share or say or do. I was always bursting at the edges to get free from that (because man, is that stifling). I always wore bright clothes and said nerdy things and advertised my geeky tendencies. But it was…edited. Which everyone does at work, right? Especially (let’s be honest here) women.

The first teacher I met at my current school walked into the library over the summer while I was getting acclimated and playing the score from The Phantom Menace at full volume. You know, the music from the duel between Darth Maul, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon? It took him a minute, but he placed it. And was impressed. But you know I was only playing that music at full volume pretending to be a library Jedi because I thought no one would come in and see me. Why did I care? Because I was at work, and I’m a grownup. That’s why.

I sort of drew these connections between that feeling of “fitting in” as a grownup and my hair. My hair is so very curly. So very much a piece of my heritage and ethnicity and personality and entire identity. If I had a dime for everyone who has asked me if I’ve ever considered changing it in some way, I’d be set for life. After years of that you internalize the message there, that your hair needs to be changed. So when I left college behind, and the days of being known around the art building for the hair (and, yes, a Green Hornet lunch box that I carried with me everywhere), I sort of felt like I needed to tame that side of myself. Like my hair in its wild state could not be part of my adulthood.

It happened gradually, as I took on jobs with more responsibility and went to graduate school. More ponytails and braids. The haircuts got more expensive, but the requirement that “I need to be able to pull it back” stayed. And somehow felt more urgent. I became terrified by the idea of not being able to pull my hair back. After a childhood spent fighting and destroying it, and my college years spent embracing it, somewhere in my mid-20s it became something I tolerated publicly but adored in secret. Something I allowed to show through a little, but not all the way…that wouldn’t be fitting of a grownup with a real job. Except maybe on the weekends.

So when I was told in mid-March that my contract would not be renewed next year, despite all my observations and performance reviews and supervisors that told me I was really good at my job, I kind of called bullshit on the whole situation. The holding back to seem like a professional and an adult. The not being my entire, complete self, even down to the way I wear the hair that grows out of my head as nature intended it. And I think I just decided to use my remaining time at this job as a kind of experiment. What would it be like if I was just me? If I couldn’t even pull my hair back? Would the sky fall?

Turns out, no. (And the hair really works with the new glasses..in the end I went with pairs #2 and #5). The teachers seem to think the haircut has made me sassier (in truth, I was holding back the sassy…at least until I got tenure). I got some uncomfortable looks from administrators, who didn’t know what to make of the sudden and sharp change (childishly satisfying). And I felt lighter and more comfortable in my skin at work than I had since getting the news about my contract…and maybe even since long before that.

Maybe sometimes you just have to chop something down and start again.

This has been a helluva month. I posted about the awesomeness surrounding Hannah’s first birthday, but then I basically needed a break. I found out a couple days before her birthday that my district isn’t renewing my contract next year. I’m up for tenure at the end of the year, and…that’s the end of that. They don’t have to give a reason, but they did, and it was frankly more insulting than if they just hadn’t told me why. So that was a blow to the juggling act that has been returning to work after having this glorious little lady, and it all happened very fast, and I still had to try and pull off her birthday party despite being terribly distracted and frustrated. Then I spent the week between Hannah’s birthday and spring break trying to finish Battle of the Books with my 4th graders and deal with my job posting going out and telling folks I will not be back.

I was exhausted.

Then last Friday night, fresh off the Battle of the Books final assembly at school, I packed up the baby and drove to Boston to meet Adam. He was already there for PAX East, and I rolled into town at 2am. From there we had a much-needed, much-deserved, very wonderful road trip week around New England. We lost MLK Day and Presidents Day at work because of Hurricane Sandy, so this was the first break since Christmas. And I know I was burned out and in desperate need of it.

We got home around midnight last night, so we have the weekend to hang out before going back to work and this very bizarre new reality. And then when June comes, it’s time to figure out what’s next.

But in the meantime, I’ll be posting LOTS of great trip photos.

I’m posting this right under the wire before Hannah’s first birthday expires; it has been a long and bittersweet day. We both took the day off to hang out with Hannah. Adam and I were up at 1:11 this morning to stare at her awesome sleeping self in her crib and reminisce about her arrival last year. That was such a great moment we shared, laughing about her stubborn refusal to come into this world. We’ve had a truly rough week here in the Reeve house, and this morning was tied up with some of that drama. So I needed those moments throughout the day when we would just look at her, and look at each other, and giggle like idiots that she’s been ours for an entire year. We still look at her sometimes and think, “Where are your parents, and when are they coming to get y–oh, right.”

I mean, THIS. This creature who opens presents and concentrates intensely on tearing up the tissue paper into the tiniest little pieces possible. This amazing, dainty, opinionated, thoughtful, hilarious, mischievous, brilliant, good-natured little person whose personality is as big as an ocean without being able to say a word. She is EVERYTHING, and when I look back at pictures of her arrival I see that we had no idea how good things were about to get. How sleep-deprived, disorganized, noisy, stressed, altered, and GOOD things were about to get.

What were we doing before she got here? How has she not been here for all eternity? Who WERE those people in old photos of Adam and me, those bright-eyed, well-rested, centers of their own universe? How did we ever just leave the house and go places without a car full of supplies? How were we ever whole?

Well, we weren’t, really. We just didn’t know it yet.

I’m trying out glasses.com for my new frames, so I picked 5 frames to try on at home. I have to send them back ASAP and make my choices, and I’m stuck. I’m definitely getting pair #2, but I can’t decide on the second pair. I was leaning towards #3 (bottom left), but seeing them in photos I’m not sure. I was going for kind of a dorky chic thing, but they may be neither. Adam says #1 makes me look like Will.I.Am, and they are BabyPhat frames so I see where he’s going with that. I have no idea, any thoughts?

I’ve always liked Ben Affleck, but I really liked the speech he gave for Argo’s Best Picture win at the Oscars on Sunday. And yes, I know this is tilted. But it’s the best version of the entire speech that I could find.

I get everything about this. Doing things for your kids because they are the mirror that you see yourself in. And why showing them your best self is such a big deal. I even get his awkward statement about marriage being work. It is work, the best kind of work, even when it feels effortless and amazing. You work to show up and be present and support each other every single day. I get that you won’t both be happy in your careers at the same time every day, or even every year, but you always celebrate the other’s highs and pull them through the lows.

I get it, and I really love his story.