Cornrows, twist-outs, free hair, oh my!

I've been thinking on L's hair quite a bit lately. I mean, I already think on it a whole lot, but her gorgeous curls have been taking up slightly more valuable real estate in my brain as of late.

One, I am in a rut. Style-wise, that is. You would think that the most challenging times would be in the colder months: mixing it up for school, dealing with the dry and cold winter months...etc. I find summer to be much more of a challenge, especially as L grows into an ever-increasing ACTIVE child. She swims, she plays, she bikes, she pretends to be a Kung Fu master and all of these activities wreak havoc on her fragile curls. Cornrows? I did L's whole head in July and it was glorious:

Loved that I didn't have to "do" her hair every day. True, her 3c curls don't hold cornrows for terribly long, requiring me to re-braid a row or two every couple of days, but it still gave L (and yours truly) so much more freedom and flexibility. The big BUT in this is that it takes some patience and time to get her whole head braided. Between washing, detangling, stretching and braiding, I think it took me three days to complete her head. Add to that the fact that my once easy-going-and-easy-to-style toddler has turned into little miss contrary, and you can start to understand while I'm not gagging to do a whole head of cornrows. She'll sit for me, but it's not pretty. There is LOTS of whining, fidgeting, yelling, bribing (who, me?), bargaining, begging, pleading (seriously, I stoop pretty low sometimes) and the occasional crocodile tear involved in a major style session. I'm thinking of doing some Ghana threading this week. It doesn't look terribly hard (if you can do twists, you can do this) and appears to be a great protective style (no rubber bands required!). I found it on this amazing Youtube channel, Girls Love Your Curls. Box braids is another option, but one that has never really wow'd me in L's hair. Her curls are too fine to have an unbanded braid (meaning, no band at the base of the braid), and thus the idea of a protective style is kinda lost, as there are tons of tiny rubber bands in her hair. One of my favorite styles on L is a braid- or twist-out. I wash/condition/detangle one night, banding her hair with cloth bands to stretch the hair. The next night I do small flat twists all over her head and take out in the morning. The result: a head of shiny, soft, BIG, beautiful curls:

The only drawback of this style is that it not only takes some TLC to maintain those curls over the course of a couple of days, but one afternoon at the pool at you're back where you started: wet hair and no style.

The option I've chose for the past week as I slowly gather my courage make up my mind about her next style is a semi-free style that requires only a medium amount of maintenance (about 30-45 minutes each morning). I did 4 cornrows which serve to protect her hairline but also function as a headband of sorts. The rest of her head is completely au natural. By that I don't mean there is no product in there (let's not get crazy, people), but her curls are not manipulated in any way at all. Each morning I simply spray some water on the curls that were smooshed at night and over the course of the previous day (generally the back of her head is the worst...thanks, car seats), add some diluted conditioner (currently using Deva Curl's One Condition) and detangle with my fingers. Lately I've been finishing with Ouidad's Climate Control Heat & Humidity Gel. Lordy, I love this stuff (they have it at my local Sephora). Her hair is a tiny bit crunchy at first, but is soft and bouncy all day long, and her curls stay defined even in this ridiculous humidity we've had. The result is pretty awesome and very much matches L's personality. This is how her hair IS:

Um, don't mind the cherry juice. My girl LOVES cherries.

Sulking because I'm making her stand still.

I love this picture. She is sooooo annoyed with me at this point.

Again, the only problem is that this style is not pool-friendly (and we're set to hit the pool today, darnit).

So, we'll try the Ghana threading over the next couple of days and see how that goes. I love the idea of it, here's hoping the execution is as relatively straight-forward as it seems!

If anyone has thoughts on other protective styles, let me know! My goal is to find a style that will last perhaps a week and doesn't require lots of banding (I am trying to keep her hairline as stress-free as possible).

Happy Hair, everyone!

The Fourth in Pictures (and just a few words...)

We had a glorious Fourth of July weekend at Chez Mimi & Papa. Here are some of my favorite photos from the weekend:

Don't you love the Port-a-Pottys in the background. I do.

Such a serious (but handsome) face!

Water gun = happy boy.

Seersucker pants made by yours truly. He hated them, but I forced him to wear them for just one afternoon.

 

The three cousins

L learned how to throw a ball, thanks to Uncle Scott! I love that she's wearing my Dad's old mitt from when he was a kid. You can even see where my Grandma wrote his name.



Even more amazing, she learned to catch! For those who know me best, we all knew she wasn't going to learn that particular skill from me.



E spent the vast majority of the weekend in the hammock. Seriously, the boy luuurves to swing. Sadly, every time I tried to take a picture, he'd start whining for me to continue pushing.

Doesn't he look like he just heard a dirty joke? And yes, I will be modifying the pants pattern, as they are clearly not roomy enough for a full diaper.



L and worms.



D and worms.

 

Worms.

Beautiful girl. Those cornrows took a good while but boy were they worth it. They lasted at least two weeks and only required some minor touch-ups. Why mess with hair when there is fishing to be done!

D is the best cousin ever. L follows him around like a puppy dog and he is amazingly kind and patient with his little cousin.

My favorite of my Dad's t-shirts: "The trout, the whole trout, and nothing but the trout."

Thank you, Mimi & Papa, for a wonderful and unforgettable Fourth of July weekend!

My Food, My Body, My Daughter

I've had this blog post rolling around in my head for a few days now. Originally, I was going to write about how training for a marathon has significantly changed my intensely rocky relationship with food for the better. To think of food as fuel is a rather foreign concept to me. For much of my teenage and college years, food was either something I could viciously control, or a hateful reminder that I was a not perfect (a failure).

I am a recovered anorexic and bulimic. It's something I talk freely about with anyone who asks, but not something I've addressed in this blog. Why? Not sure. I do find myself a wee bit uncomfortable right now, not because I'm embarrassed, but because thanks to television, movies & celebrity "news" coverage, eating disorders have become so cliche. I can still remember watching (the original, thank you very much) 90210 where Kelly had anorexia for like, 2 freaking episodes. Really??!! My eating disorder is certainly not as severe as it could have been, but 20 years later I may not be having active relapses, but I still grapple with food and body issues on a daily basis. I spent 2 years of high school in a daze, manically counting calories (usually about 250/day) and desperately searching for new ways to hide the fact that I either wasn't eating, or was spending the majority of the night and early morning purging. It still amazes me that there are rather large chunks of those years I simply don't remember. There's not much room for  memories when every waking thought is devoted to food and how to triumph over it. I had a not-terribly-surprising relapse in college, and then one in grad school that completely caught me off guard. I was 25, married, at my dream grad school doing what I loved, and eating only the broth from chicken noodle soup. Thankfully, the last relapse was rather short-lived and 10 years later, I'm happy to say I've not had one since.

As with many things in life, motherhood included, I've discovered that my eating disorder is another one of those things that will probably be a "work in progress" forever. And now that it's bleeding into my relationship with my daughter, I'm on high alert. I quickly realized that I've got some work to do.

My little family just had a glorious weekend at the lake. We swam. We ate. We water skied. We ate. We drank. We ate. By yesterday afternoon, I was not only filled with food, but with absolute panic. I felt completely and totally out of control. The old inner dialogue, which has been present but quiet over the past decade, was loud and insistent once again. It is NOT OK to eat cake after EVERY MEAL! What if I can't stop eating? The food is there and I can't seem to stop myself. What's wrong with me? What happened to my self-control? All of these thought spinning around in my head as I tried to remain calm and ride it out. And then, to my absolute horror, my inner dialogue started in on my daughter. I am cringing with shame right now, but what's the point of writing about this if I'm not honest, no?

This was a vacation weekend for all of us and we ate accordingly: French toast, bacon, muffins, bagels, chips, popsicles, cake, cake, and more cake, hot dogs...etc. If it is served at a county fair, we probably had it. When I realized that my daughter had been eating just like me all weekend, I felt a whole new kind of panic, followed immediately by incredible amounts of guilt and shame (did I for a moment worry about my son's eating? Nope, and I suspect that is a whole other post entirely). It was a brief and passing moment, thankfully, but it happened and I'm left trying to figure out how to deal with it. Let me say right now, I know that L is a happy, healthy little girl. Once a tiny and malnourished baby (only 8 lbs at 5mos), L is an incredibly active 4 year-old. I know this. I also recall, before parenthood, talking with my husband and stating firmly that I would never allow my eating issues to ever come close to my kids. They were my issues, after all. But it didn't work out that way, no siree.

Once again, the universe has put me in my place. Here I was, thinking I had this thing licked. I was training for a marathon, reveling in the fact that I was actually having a happy and productive relationship with food. At 35, feeling pretty darn content with my body. Hell, even liking the way I looked more often than not. I may not have had a relapse, but I've had my eyes opened. As with almost everything related to motherhood, there is some serious work to be done. I know it's impossible to protect my girl from the barrage media images, all telling us that we aren't tall enough, thin enough, pretty enough, have clear enough skin, tight enough jeans, long enough hair, a flat enough tummy, perky enough tush...etc. My worst fear is that, however unconsciously, I'll be contributing to the barrage that's aimed right at my little girl.

Heigh ho, it's back to work I go.