Great Hair Expectations

I'm a big pusher of the pony tail. Its benefits are endless, and it enables me to compensate for my lack of hair-styling skills despite decades of trying to tame my own out-of-control mane.  

Pre-puberty I had long, silky, thick, shiny, pretty-straight hair that could easily be styled by my mom and occasionally by my dad (not recommended.) One day during the lovely time of life called puberty, I woke up with uncontrollably curly, frizzy hair, when just what I wanted was layers like Farrah Fawcett.

Product under protest

Now, I’m in trouble. The kids have great hair and a really crappy in-house stylist. 

With Chad, luckily, I am hands off by his decree.  He has thick beautiful hair that he does absolutely nothing with - ever. The only hint of styling is his chronic smoothing down of his “bangs” over his forehead in a poor rendition of the even poorer Caesar hairstyle. If bed head were in vogue, Chad would have the most enviable coif in the neighborhood. He winces at the mention of product, a category that apparently includes even the use of water. Brushing or combing is completely out of the question. This works for both of us.

A temporarily satisfied customer

Eden, like her brother, has marvelous hair. Hers is partly curly, partly straight, great color and texture. I do my best to give it a style. She abhors having her hair brushed because it's thick and brushing hurts so any detangling is done with fingers or not at all. Never a critic though, Eden is quite happy with the lumpy pony tails she wears to school. She recognizes my braiding limitations and opts instead for my poor attempt at twists. Her complaints about uneven pig tails are mild and relegated to her head feeling lopsided. She's fairly easy-going which makes my hair styling job so much easier. In September, she and a friend took safety scissors to their heads, Eden in an attempt to create “side bangs and layers.” She was delighted with the result even though she looked as if she did the tango with a shredder. It's this laissez faire disposition that keeps Eden happy and me off the chopping block - for now.

Best case scenario

Where my hair inadequacies shine most brightly is with Miss Remi Lauren, who sees straight through my ponytail campaign. What she expects my hand to do is a constant reminder of my limitations. Let's lead with my strengths: great at combing out all tangles moderately painlessly, solid on product application, better than a Twisty-Turbie at removing excess water and much better than Todd on my worst day. That's it. The weaknesses dominate, and no matter the effort extended, the outcome for Remi is about as great as getting bok choy when you thought you were getting a fudge brownie. My Magnum Opus is the pony tail. Beyond that it all gets very murky. 

This morning's pre-school request was, I think, based on a complicated Origami design. It had more tucks, twists, under pulls and right angles than anything I.M. Pei could design. SHIT. I don't know what's worse, trying, failing and fighting or not trying, failing and fighting. Figuring out who the loser is in either scenario is fairly simple. Failure is usually the option, but not trying is out of the question. 

Remi’s requests are endless, like a chain of ants marching towards a picnic basket. Each morning, it seems, she ratchets up the degree of difficulty. “Mom, can you make a French braid with beads that wraps around my head? “ Anything from the American Girl Doll catalogue would please. Or how about double pony tails, bump-free, tucked through each rubber band, pulled downward, split and then quartered, wrapped into buns with no barrettes or bobby-pins allowed? Is she really serious when she envisions microscopic braids that start at her hairline, merge together, separate again for twisting, come back together, get curled with a a curling iron and then sprayed into the same shape as her Birthday Barbie's hair? I'm afraid she is. Last week she wanted her hair parted in a zig-zagged line with temporary color jags off off each zig.

These requests never end well. Remi goes to school with only a pony tail, and I am thinking its time for a buzz cut.  And so it goes. Yet despite being totally vitamin deficient in the hair capability department, I am mineral rich in effort and determination and that will have to be enough; the alternative isn't any better and Remi knows it. It could be Todd styling her hair each morning...