Beyond Hope

Reflections on a young girl's bad hair - illustrated by Lois's hijacking of my chocolate chip muffin.

I am officially declaring Lois's hair to be beyond hope. The unruly mass atop her head has been a thorn in my side since the day she was born. I vividly remember sweet nurse Harriet trying to comb her landing strip after a bath in the NICU and declaring that Lois needed "product." That's right. She was 2 weeks old - still not supposed to be out of the womb - and already her hair was unmanageable.
She had her first haircut when she was 6 months old. It was a slight improvement, but we were still left wondering what the future would hold for her - follicly speaking. 20 haircuts later, we've determined that poor little Lois is destined to be follicly challenged for the rest of her days.

Lois's hair grows straight forward from the back of her head. And I do mean straight forward. So to keep some semblance of a girly look about her, we're forced to use hair clips. We started with clips no bigger than a half inch and have progressed to 2 inch long monstrosities that are even successful at taming my rats nest. For months, they did the trick. But suddenly Lois has decided she'd rather not have that clip in her hair - and as soon as I snap it in place, she rips it out.

And this is what we are left with. It's not girly. It's not pretty. It looks like it was cut with 50 year old garden shears. If George Clooney's Caesar hair cut from years ago were still the rage, then my girl would be the most fashionable kid on the block. Instead, she looks like a cross between a young John Lennon and a homeless waif.

I've decided our only option is to go short - mega short - on the top. She'll either look like Sharon Stone with a classic pixie - or a homeless waif with really short hair.

I'll keep you posted.