I have made a deal with the three youngest of my girls, Madison, Cameron and Quincy. Now, some would stop me right here and tell me that is the problem – that I actually negotiate with them instead of just telling them what to do. That’s how I was raised actually. There were only two choices – mom’s way or the highway. I’m a pick your battles kind of gal, though, and I have four girls to argue with so I’ve decided that this works for me.
The deal is that I get to pick what they wear on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and they get to pick the rest of the week. I did this to save myself a) daily embarrassment and b) daily arguments. What I have found, though, is that disagreements over their attire have merely morphed into disagreements about other things, like what to have for breakfast or what coat to wear. Such is life with girls. So the disagreement this morning wasn’t about the clothing, it was about the hair. Madison demanded a ponytail. Um, not gonna happen. A ponytail is not in Madison’s immediate future and here’s why.
You see, I took all the girls to get their hair cut a couple of days before school started last August. The twins had taken scissors to their own hair so that was more of a repair job and Emily just got a trim. Madison, on the other hand, when asked what kind of hair cut she wanted told the stylist that she wanted short hair. “Like a boy’s haircut” she said. I hesitated to give the nod to the stylist for just a moment thinking of how cruel kids are, but after checking in once more with Madison to make sure that is exactly what she wanted, I let go and let the hair fly. And off it came. Then the heavens opened up and the cutest, sweetest face on the planet was revealed.
Over the course of the year, as I feared, Madison has been teased about having short hair. Teased to the point of tears. And I gotta tell you, that just chaps my ass. I was hoping that we’d progressed further than that as a society. But, no. This brings me back to reality, and I am once again reminded of all the societal norms and pressure that my girls will have to endure. I mean, give a girl a flippin’ break. It’s just hair, for Pete’s sake!