My girlfriend’s adorable picture on Facebook of her son’s crazy hair for school today (not my kid, so I won’t share it, but here’s a pretty crazy one of my own from a few years back), and another mom-friend talking about doing seven crazy ponytails in her daughter’s hair got me thinking; and remembering. I also had a nice telephone conversation with my oldest daughter, Sara, this morning and a blissful 70-minute one with my step-daughter, Rachel, this afternoon. I didn’t get much writing done today, but it made me so nostalgic for when we were all together under one roof, in one state. It was brief and it wasn’t always easy, but those were blissfully chaotic and wonderful years before Sara left to go off to college, and too soon after, Rachel graduated and got her own apartment.
My boy has never been one to let me do a thing to his hair, even when his sisters were around and wanted to spike it all the time. ONE time he allowed me to spike it for his school picture, but when Grandma said she didn’t like it; never again. Not once since. Not even for Crazy Hair Day. But it’s my very favorite school picture of him, ever. And his big sisters would probably agree.
I now have my boy trained to tell his dad, “Not Your Department,” whenever his mop gets too long, which I rather like, but Dad threatens to get out the clippers. This phrase came up because when Rachel was little, her dad thought she needed a haircut and thought he was just the guy to see it done. Well I was totally in the ex-wife’s corner on this one: SO Not Dad’s Department! It looked exactly like his sisters’ did, in their typical 70s Pageboys. In fact, he probably wouldn’t admit it, but I bet he took an old picture out of his wallet of one of his sisters to show the stylist at the time. I would have been furious with him if he’d done that to my girl. Of course, Rachel and her sunny smile were adorable regardless, but that phrase has lived on in our family, forever more.
The craziest hair times typically occur when girls are in their high school years. They begin experimenting, asserting their independence and, depending on what they’re into at the time, might come home with half a head shaved or a shock of hot pink running through it. My own high school photos range from a Barbra Streisand Main Event perm to Farrah Fawcett feathered bangs; not so bad, I guess.
My boy has never been one to let me do a thing to his hair, even when his sisters were around and wanted to spike it all the time. ONE time he allowed me to spike it for his school picture, but when Grandma said she didn’t like it; never again. Not once since. Not even for Crazy Hair Day. But it’s my very favorite school picture of him, ever. And his big sisters would probably agree.
I now have my boy trained to tell his dad, “Not Your Department,” whenever his mop gets too long, which I rather like, but Dad threatens to get out the clippers. This phrase came up because when Rachel was little, her dad thought she needed a haircut and thought he was just the guy to see it done. Well I was totally in the ex-wife’s corner on this one: SO Not Dad’s Department! It looked exactly like his sisters’ did, in their typical 70s Pageboys. In fact, he probably wouldn’t admit it, but I bet he took an old picture out of his wallet of one of his sisters to show the stylist at the time. I would have been furious with him if he’d done that to my girl. Of course, Rachel and her sunny smile were adorable regardless, but that phrase has lived on in our family, forever more.
The craziest hair times typically occur when girls are in their high school years. They begin experimenting, asserting their independence and, depending on what they’re into at the time, might come home with half a head shaved or a shock of hot pink running through it. My own high school photos range from a Barbra Streisand Main Event perm to Farrah Fawcett feathered bangs; not so bad, I guess.
When my girls were in high school, straightening was all the rage, or Goth, but thankfully neither of them went there, so not too much craziness to report. Except (and I’m sure at this point, she knows this is coming) when Rachel needed her hair done for Competitive Cheerleading: We had to put it up in a high pony tail, then twist and wrap little individually sectioned pieces around flaming hot rubber noodles to make a gagillion ringlet curls all through the pony tail; but not before absolutely COATING both sides of each little section of hair with AquaNet hairspray. The stench was bad enough, but my hands, forearms and even the tops of my feet would get absolutely coated in the stuff. I wouldn’t do it upstairs because of the bamboo floors, so we did it in the basement and would both be nearly asphyxiated by the time we were done. And lucky her, she’d have to sleep in it all night like that.
Even with no fingerprints left to identify my cold, dead body (which could very well be a reality when she sees this example that shows her little brother isn't the only one in the family who will put on a crazy outfit from time to time), the unpleasant AquaNet arms, crusty nose hairs and my fingers literally sticking to one another, to her hair and to the rat tail comb, I wouldn’t trade those blessed moments with my spunky, funny, smart, loving and spectacularly beautiful step-daughter for anything in this world. Especially on this long holiday weekend, far from home, I wish I could blink my eyes and spend an evening doing her hair and breathing AquaNet all over again. I’d happily do Sara’s, too. I know for sure my son will never let me do his, not even for Crazy Hair Day. But he’d put on a crazy getup, have a blast and there would be lots of laughs with his Dad, sisters and all of us together under one roof again, if only for a moment. (The things you can get away with when your daughters are an entire country away, however, can be rather fun!)
Even with no fingerprints left to identify my cold, dead body (which could very well be a reality when she sees this example that shows her little brother isn't the only one in the family who will put on a crazy outfit from time to time), the unpleasant AquaNet arms, crusty nose hairs and my fingers literally sticking to one another, to her hair and to the rat tail comb, I wouldn’t trade those blessed moments with my spunky, funny, smart, loving and spectacularly beautiful step-daughter for anything in this world. Especially on this long holiday weekend, far from home, I wish I could blink my eyes and spend an evening doing her hair and breathing AquaNet all over again. I’d happily do Sara’s, too. I know for sure my son will never let me do his, not even for Crazy Hair Day. But he’d put on a crazy getup, have a blast and there would be lots of laughs with his Dad, sisters and all of us together under one roof again, if only for a moment. (The things you can get away with when your daughters are an entire country away, however, can be rather fun!)
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