Thursday, October 22, 2009

Her Hair

There's something about her hair that deeply connects the two of us--the way I brush through it every morning, at first combing my fingers cautiously down the nape of her neck, then growing more careless as I reach the middle of her back. I always start, "Did you wash all the conditioner out? Your hair feels so cakey."

I begin raking through her top layers, "And there's left over hairspray in your part--it's all flaky up here." I tap on her head, pointing. "You need to wash more thoroughly."

"I know, Mom! You tell me this every morning and it's old. I'm trying my very best. Knock it off and think of something new to say."

She's right; I'm a nag, a nuisance, a broken record. What will she do with a mom like me?

"Well," I say. "What's new with you? Any drama? New crush? Do you ever have dreams about sneaking into the bedroom of the cutest girl in the school, then cutting her hair off until she's bald?"

"What? You're demented, Mom! I would never dream about doing something like that, eewh." she says, crinkling her nose.

I switch from brushing to styling her hair, and the demands start firing like a machine gun. "I just want a side pony. No braids. No bump in the front. Just the pony, that's all. OK, Mom?" This time I do what she asks with minimal resistance.

"Guess what, Mom?"


"There's this boy in my class, and he totally bugs."

"What's he like--fat? Small and Skinny? Does he have bad breath and yellow teeth?"

"He's none of that, Mom. He's just annoying, and I can't stand how he spits when he talks and laughs when he shouldn't. He gets in trouble every day. And you know what else?"

"What?" I say.

"He smiles at me all the time."

I begin making a high trill with my voice, and my eyes go wide, "He likes you, Nah. Woohoo. He's totally in love with and crazy for you."

"Gross, Mom. Are you done with my hair yet?"

"Yes." She moves away from me to the other mirror, swiveling her head back and forth. She likes what she sees. All of it.

I watch her as she flips her pony over her shoulder and bounces out of the bathroom. I note her perfect frame and follow her out, inhaling the mix of her hairspray and Pink perfume; I can't get enough. She's already twenty steps ahead of me when I hear her distant,"Goodbye, Mom. I love you."

I quickly begin wafting all the air around me, pulling it close to my nose. I can't smell what was there just seconds ago. Her scent has dissipated, leaving me alone with the smell of over cooked eggs and an almost gone blackberry Wall Flower. I miss her when she is gone.


  1. First of all, your daughter has gorgeous hair! Um, can we trade? Second, I'm a teensy bit sad when I read this because I will never have moments like these with a daughter. Not to say that I don't thoroughly enjoy boy talk as I'm blowing the boys' noses (obsession) and combing their hair (only to later throw a hat over it) all while smelling their stinkers that snuck out as they were blowing their noses. Enjoy your girl time. (sounds like you do).

  2. You may not have moments like this with your biological daughter, but, you'll have daughter-in-laws, granddaughters, and I know you'll be YW's President someday (if you're not already).

    Boys are the best, especially when they're Volcom models like your boys.

  3. awww..what a sweet post. And she does have the most beautiful hair!!!!

  4. She still lets you do her hair? My sweet 7 year old has barely let me do her hair at all this year. So independent. Picture day she consented but that is about it.

  5. Wow, your hair moments are way more fun than ours! I've got to step it up a bit, I guess. Mari would live in a ponytail (or bedhead) if I let her. I keep threatening to shave her head like Grant's if she doesn't let me do her hair. Is that mean?

  6. It's not mean, Anglea. It's a reasonable solution, and she would probably like the convenience of having short hair. Britney thought that, anyway. Plus, Grant is super handsome, and Mari's face is so adorable, she sould never look bad.

    Doing Hannah's hair is a love/hate situation. I love having the chance to talk with her, but I can never get her hair the way she wants it. When she starts in, complaining about this and that, I just start brushing harder. I think that mean tops your mean.