Wild Hair, But Not a Care

I refuse to cut her hair. I know it is wild and funny lookin' but it would break my heart to have it gone. When she crawls up in my lap and leans the back of her head on my chest, I can feel it soft and wispy against me. Those are some of my favorite mommy moments. In attempts to make her presentable, I put it back in barrettes and rubber bands as much as possible. But lately she hates the restriction. She tries to rip them all out. Oh well.

I think that I am somewhat holding on to the idea that the first hair cut, for little girls, is a milestone and should be momentous for them. I don't think that my hair was cut until I was in the third grade. I had finally convinced my mom to not only let me get my hair cut but to also pick the hair style. I had it chopped and got feathered bangs (which unfortunately, is not too far off from the mess I've got goin now). After the Do was done, I cried of course and I am sure my mom probably threw in a teasing "I told you so!" However, it was important to me and made me feel like a big girl. This goes along with her getting her ears pierced. I want her to make the choice. In her own good time. The way the world is now, the pace at which she will experience things will certainly be accelerated. I want to maintain her purity and simplicity as long as possible. And who wouldn't? She's a baby for crying out loud. Now is the time for her to have no worries about fashion or any of the other crap that us women get caught up in. She should be livin' footloose and fancy free. So let's agree to let this baby, just be a baby.


Me niego a cortarle el pelo. Se que está todo loco, y que se ve chistoso, pero me rompiera el corazón quitárselo. Cuando se sube en mis rodillas y pone su cabecita en mi pecho, puedo sentir su pelo, suavecito y finito. Esos son de mis favoritos momentos como mamá. Tratando de mantenerla presentable, lo acomodo con ganchos y ligas seguido. Pero ultimamente no le gusta la restricción. Trata de quitárselos, ni modo.

Creo que estoy manteniendo la idea que el primer corte de pelo es un hito en la vida de una niña, y debe ser memorable. Creo que no me cortaron el pelo de niña hasta que estaba en el tercer grado. Al fin convencí a mi mamá que me dejara escoger el corte y que me llevara al salón. Me lo deje corto y me dieron un cepillo (desafortunadamente, es muy parecido al corte que tengo hoy en día). Después de mi corte, lloré, y mi mamá probablemente me dijo “Te dije que esto pasaría”. Pero no le hace, era importante para mi y mi sentí como una niña grande. Para mi, esto es como llevarla a que le agujeren las orejas. Es algo que quiero que ella escoja, cuando esté lista.

Del modo que están las cosas en el mundo hoy, estoy segura que ella va a tener experiencias mas joven que las tuve yo. Quiero mantener su pureza y sencillez el mas tiempo posible. Y quien no lo quisiera? Es una bebita, por dios. Ahora es el momento para que no se preocupe por las modas y todas esas cochinadas con que se preocupan las mujeres. Ella debe estar viviendo sin problema alguno. Dejemos que está bebe sea una bebe.