I’ve been asked many silly questions about me and my children: How can they be twins if they are not dressed the same? Did you do the IVF so you could have two in one go? Are they identical? (One’s a boy and one’s a girl). And so on.
This one, about their appearance, “Do you curl their hair?” is on my mind today. Believe it or not, I’ve been asked it a number of times.
L and R hardly let me wash their hair; they cry red-eyed, scream, and even suffer through the process. I do it anyway. To comb their hair is another drama; I run after them stroking through one part, and when they are distracted, I get through a few more strands. After a few days of partial combing, R had tough tangles in his hair today. Almost dreadlocks.
There is no way L and R would sit around while I put curls in their hair. Not much chance I’d spend my time doing that to 2, almost 2-year-olds anyway.
If children learn a thing or two from watching what their parents do, I’m no example of neat, done-up hair. My parents still give me an “Are you planning to leave the house looking like that? You hair needs a comb run through it” look. I see my family once, maybe twice a year. It takes only a day or two after the reunion for these thoughts from back in the day to re-surface. But to no avail.
When we met in Calgary a couple of months ago, my brothers spent one whole hour convincing me that I needed to see a hairdresser. My latest (defensive, nerdy) response: “I’d rather blog when I have a spare moment. Can’t you leave me, and my hair alone?”
There might be some truth to their worries; I pay little attention to my hair. I’ve been to a hairdresser 4 times in the last 3 years. But hey, I was in bed-rest for much of my pregnancy, did the NICU time, and now I take care of the two babies, OK, toddlers. So HAH! That’s my excuse. The secret: the ratio would be about the same had it been any other period of my life.
Legend goes, Maher had big, curly hair, wore large knitted red, black, and yellow striped tops, while listening to reggae and sipping on his late-morning coffee. This was just before you met him, I am told repeatedly. The bit about his hair, I mean.
So, NO, I don’t curl their hair. We are happy with (my out of control and M’s lack of) their naturally wild and curly hair. I do appreciate the admiration for it though.
Natasha Devalia 
Hey Desi,
Seriously, a black woman if she curls her daughters hair?!! That’s just a great line! I also see where people are coming from, and am beginning to understand that some spend time taking care of their hair. Got to respect them and their choices if I expect it back. I remember being in Lebanon, with a friend I deeply respect, who also didn’t bother much with her hair and make-up. One day we saw a woman drive out of her garage, beautiful, all done-up, she was touching up her make-up at the same time. I pointed her out to my friend, who said “Wow, she’s strong!” She meant wow, it’s not easy to keep yourself looking so good. So, got to give her props for it!
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People used to ask my mom if she dyed my hair because it had a lot of red and blonde highlights!
I’m not much of a groomer. I finger comb and put in a pony tail. I’ve tried the grooming thing and it never lasts long as it is an incredibly tedious venture to primp and preen on a regular basis 🙂 Male birds put on the show, not the females who don’t waste time with such high maintenance finery. So that’s what I’m going with. LOL
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Glad to hear I’m not alone on this one 😉 Thanks for dropping by,
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People used to ask me that question when my daughter was a toddler. “Do you curl her hair?” On the one hand, I get that she is quite a lot more fair than I am. Her hair is reddish brown, not near-black like mine. I sort of understand where they were coming from. But who asks a black woman if she curls her daughters hair?!?!
I see a hairdresser about as often as you do, and finally cut my hair so short that people stop expecting me to brush it. It works for me, too 🙂
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