The Trivial Pursuit of Happiness

Can we talk about this kid’s hair for a minute?

For months (nay, years) I have been waiting for the day that I could put her hair in little pig tails, or maybe a plastic poodle clip. She was born with a peach fuzz, and though her hair never fell out, it also never grew. At a year old you could barely make a bathtub mohawk, and I was getting tired of correcting people when they commented how handsome my little boy was. My little Alvin. Then overnight she had hair, and I thought, Hey, I have a daughter!

What I forgot was that she is my daughter, and thus will not sit still long enough to brush it, let alone tame it. When I do manage to clip-while-running, she scowls at me and shakes her head, which is enough to dislodge anything I try to put in her super fine hair. Most days I wait until she is strapped down in her carseat to try and make it all go in one direction (namely toward her head) but yesterday I didn’t want to fight her, so we went out with crazy Einstein hair (I didn’t want to fight with my hair either.)

My mom called me her “little ragamuffin” as a pet name, and I am seeing some of that in my daughter. Let’s hope she is a bit better than me though, and I never have to cut a fist-sized dread out of her hair because she would not let me brush it for weeks.