Why I have pink hair

If you've seen me over the past week, you may or may not have noticed that I have a pink streak in my hair.

I say "may or may not," because if you are like my father, you had to get within a foot of me to be able to see said pink streak. He's a little color blind, I believe.

But if you are not a little color blind, you probably noticed it.

(Yeah, I took that picture while sitting on the couch, holding a sleeping baby. I carefully thought out things like lighting and angles, obviously. I take my pictures seriously...)

Well, I'd just like to say that I am not, in fact, embracing the punk rocker that I never was.

In the ward (church congregation) that I was in during my adolescent years, there was this sweet family. And it was obvious that much of its sweetness (as is the case with most sweet families) came from its mother. She was my Sunday School teacher for a while. She had six kids and an awesome Spanish accent. She was a truly good person, beautiful from the inside out.

The whole ward (and everyone that knew her, really) was heartbroken when it came out that she had breast cancer. And I've yet to see so many people at a funeral.

I wasn't super close to their family or anything, but I guess I was close enough, because it still makes my heart ache a little to think of their story, and to see this lady's daughters grow up and get married and have babies of their own.

One of her daughters does hair now, and as part of her fundraising for the 3 Day walk, she is doing these pink extensions for the month of October. So me, my mom, and my sisters went and got them done last week.

It's obviously not a huge contribution or statement, but I plan on leaving it in all month. Call it a small show of support, or a reminder, or whatever you want really...but yeah, it's going to be there. So there you have it - why I have pink hair.