Yesterday, I peaked. Seriously I accomplished one of the major goals of my life. Quite frankly I am in awe that it happened at all and a bit worried about where I go from here. By now you are probably wondering what this major accomplishment is, and yes, I will tell you, but first---you must promise not to laugh. Yesterday, I was able to French Braid my daughter's hair.
This may not seem like much, but believe me when I tell you , this really is a proud moment. Growing up in a house of males there was not much braiding going around; in fact there was not much personal hygiene to speak off. I suppose that is unfair, my dad did take two showers a day, but somehow his cleanliness never rubbed off on my brother or I. I can not recall a single incident in our lives where he ever told us to "wash-up," "brush our teeth," or "take a bath." I think he assumed that peer pressure would take care of us, that we would feel shame at being the smelly kids in school, and in fact he was right. But though we may have known to wash, brush and bathe, we did not necessarily do it well. And though you could always wear clean clothes over your unbathed body, keep your mouth shut if your teeth were not brushed, it was a whole other thing to try and hide an unwashed, or worse, unbrushed, head of long tangled hair.
My dad was clueless about my hair, and with no one at home to show me, I was left to figure out hair grooming by myself. I had very long, black hair. It could have been pretty, but as it was uncared for, it always seemed to be a liability to my social status, rather than an asset. In a classroom full of girls who's moms would braid, barrette, feather, or (the height of glamour) banana curl their daughters' hair, my tangled "rat's tails"--so aptly named by my classmates was an on-going sore spot for me.
To illustrate how clueless I was about hair I offer this story....After weeks of complaining about the tangles and knots in my hair, my neighbor's mom bought me a bottle of Prell conditioner. I can still recall how beautiful the pearlized mint green conditioner was, and how excited I was that I finally was going to tame my hair and become one of the beautiful and popular girls in my class. I took that bottle home and told my dad and brother to stay out of the bathroom as I was going to undergo a transformation. About an hour later my dad knocked on the door to ask what I was crying about. It didn't take him but a moment to realize what I had done. Never having had conditioner before, I did not know how to use it, and I used the entire bottle on my hair. That lovely pearlized mint green PETROLEUM product would not wash out. Needless to say there were a lot of hats worn for the next two weeks.
This is just one of many stories I could tell about my hair mishaps. Somehow, as is human nature, I was able to adjust and get over my hair misfortunes. That was until I had a daughter.
Luckily my first daughter was born bald, and actually stayed that way until two years old, when some adorable auburn brown curls began to appear. Alleluia!, the gods had spared me, they gave me a child with curls, and curls, so I thought, have a way of taking care of themselves. That was until she went to pre-school, and I saw all the other girls in barrettes, pig-tails, freaking banana curls-still!--and of course braids. My daughter is beautiful, inside and out, and she never asked once for anything to be done with her hair, but I was damned if she was going to be that girl who dumped a whole bottle of god knows what into her hair because her mother never taught her anything. So I began practicing my braids. I practiced on the dolls in our house, on some of my friends, and on my daughter, who never once complained as I tugged and pulled to try and hold the tension in my braid. As the adage says, practice makes perfect, and they were right. Yesterday, I sent my daughter to school with not one, but two, near perfect French Braids!
I know I have many more milestones to go as a mom. And it is not lost on me that the true measure of my parenting is my well-adjusted, happy, kind child. But I would be lying if I didn't admit that it also feels really great to exorcize those old demons too!
