Girl Hair

I have been blessed with thick hair. Due to modern day highlighting techniques, it is a great color. It grows pretty fast, goes into a ponytail and can go a couple of days without a wash. But alas, it is a waste on a person like me. I am completely and totally hair disabled. I don't really understand how to do more than wash and condition. I own 3 or 4 different brushes, a host of goopy beauty products, and several curling/straightening things but it just doesn't work. Not only do I not "get" it, but I don't like it. All that pulling and pushing and prodding just doesn't appeal to my "get on with life" mentality. After having 2 boys, I used to joke that God would send me a girl when I learned how to do my hair. He didn't want a perfectly darling girl wasted on a woman who coudldn't do more than shave a head with a pair of clippers. And then he gave up and sent me Hannah because he knew I needed her and that somehow she would survive her mother's "hair disability". She is beautiful and perfect and the other day I "fixed" her hair for the very first time. It took about 30 minutes, 2 rubber bands (my fingers are so fat with those teeny things), and lots of forbidden snacks but we did it. Here is what it looked like:



A simple twist with a bow. She wasn't terribly happy about the experience. Matter of fact, she was down right mad but here is her after shot.



Since that day, she has allowed me to fix her hair on a few occasions but she absolutely will not keep her darling bows in. She rips them out and chews on them until they wilt. I'm just happy her hair isn't in her eyes and that we still have a good relationship despite the daily pain I inflict on her head. But guess what? Like everything else in life, this is but a moment. I was reminded of that when my cousin Missy showed up at my house the other day. She is getting married this Friday and had just had a "practice" run with the stylist that will be doing her hair for her wedding. She was breathtaking.



Children are here forever and yet gone in a moment! I looked at Missy and thought, "Will that really be my daughter someday?" I felt so sad thinking my days of poking and prodding her hair were so limited. The day will come when she won't want my help because she will be able to not only do it on her own, but do a much better job than I could. There will be school picture days, school dances, prom, short hair, long hair, awkward hair but then one day will be beautiful, elegant bride hair and she will be on her way. And if I'm ever so lucky, maybe one day she will bring her first precious daughter over to my house and we'll laugh about how she won't keep her bows in and how she hates having her hair done. Life is so grand! (But I still hate MY hair!)