Sunday, October 17, 2010

Child Abuse

It's Sunday. A day that sometimes I dread. Because if the girls. And their HAIR.

Why is it that the hair is at its most horrible tangled worst on Sunday mornings? The rest of the week it seems fine, we get through it pretty well. Just a quick brush and out the door. Sometimes a ponytail. For some crazy reason, on Sunday we feel like maybe we could do a little more. Usually, because we have some extra time. Or think we have extra time, anyway.

Here's how it went this morning:

10:30 (church at 11:00) -- I look at the clock, knowing that shower to pavement takes me 15 minutes, because: I planned ahead and have everything ready, it's still warm out and I don't have to do the pantyhose dance, and because I HAVE NO HAIR TO WORRY ABOUT. Seriously. My hair is done almost instantly after showering. And I love it that way. But my grils, they got hair to worry about. Thing One and the Screamapillar have theirs all worked out. They're capable of doing it all on their own as long as I keep the bobby-pin box replenished.

Eclair. Yeah, gotta help her out dere, she's got issues. It'll take me what? Three minutes to put in a quick ponytail? No problem.

Not today. Problem.

The root (ha! get it? Root?) of the problem this week was that she went to Grandma's for two days, and apparently didn't brush her hair Thursday or Friday. Or Saturday. She did wash it last night, but forgot conditioner. Then went directly to bed without combing it out. Thus, the tangle that made me so happy today.

Getting my hands on a brush was not easy. They're as easy to find as orphaned twenty dollar bills. Not the round brush, a regular hairbrush. Or a comb. ANYthing but a round brush! After compromising with a pick, I start on the hair. And here's the commentary.

(keep in mind, I love this child, and I am doing this as softly and gently as humanly possible)

E: I need a tissue.
(yelling and attempted getaway)
E: I'm trying not to stand up and run away! I just can't help it!
(hysterical crying and shrieking)
E: Are you doing from the bottom like that trick you told me?
M: Yes, I'm going as gently as I can, please hold still.
(wiggling and whining and more tears)
E: I'm itchy everywhere and I can't hold still
M: Maybe you have dry skin. We should get some lotion. Let's take a break and you go get the lotion from my dresser - it's white and it has a pump on top.
E: Like the dynamite pump thing? (She's been watching too much Loony Tunes)
M: Yeah, go get that.
(brushing resumes, with continued whining and whimpering)
E: I can't do it, my hands are weak
(mom takes a break and applies lotion. Brushing resumes with continued tears)

30 minutes after starting: Half-done
Note: her dress is on backward.

E: I'm still itchy.
(sobbing and despair)
E: Why do i have to have hair?
(crying whining and more sniffling - has abandoned the tissues for a nearby bath towel)
E: Can't we just cut it?
(moaning and groaning)
E: I'm itchy.
(tears with prolific sobbing)
E: I'm really trying to be brave. It's just so HARD!

Done at 10:20


It would have taken less time to shower her all over again, wash hair, apply conditioner, and comb out with the conditioner still in. Needless to say, we were late for church.

Now what does this have to do with Halloween? Well looking at all that hair reminded me of my good friend Lynn (who Eclair in named for) who had beautiful long blonde hair like Eclair. And one year for Halloween while we were in high school, she went as Cousin It from the Addams Family. It was epic. Hair combed over face with sunglasses on, then trench coat over hair. She was amazing and I miss her.

I just spent an hour looking for the photo and couldn't find it. Someday I will. Make do with this image so you get the idea:

Kinda like a cross between Cousin It and Chewbacca, actually. Oh well. Thank you for modeling, Eclair.

And Eclair? You. Haircut. Tomorrow.

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