When I was a young girl, I had a lot of hair issues. I had very curly hair. Extremely curly hair. Still do. However, my family was, for the most part, a straight hair one. My mother had no idea how to tame my curls. She had no idea how to comb my curls. My hair was beyond wild. Back then, not as many people appreciated such wild hair. Nowdays, if my kid had such wild hair he would be a star. Well, depends on the area. Anyway, I had a hard time with my hair. I had dreams of one day taming it. Eventually I did.
I know that my crazy hair gave my mom many headaches. And my desire to dye my hair did not ease those aches. She made it very clear to me that I was to not dye my hair before the age of 18. Everything was contingent on the age of 18. Mind you, I went away to boarding school at age 13. I could have dyed my hair there and dyed back to black before the holidays and she would not have known. I was a good girl and thus I did not do anything to my hair that she disapproved of. I am not too sure why she felt that dyeing my hair was more of something that I should do as an adult. Actually, I do remember. She thought it would signal to the world that I was older than I actually was. She felt that a young girl could not understand the full ramifications of hair dye. She felt that the world already wanted to age children too quickly and thus she gave a hard “no” on hair dye.
Perhaps because of my mom’s staunch line against hair dye, I really wanted to dye my hair. I wanted what I believe every other girl wanted. I wanted to dye my hair purple. That was just the coolest seeming color. Once in college, I proceeded to do so. Nowadays, I’m blonde an dmy son hasn’t even really processed that change. Go figure. My mom would have a good laugh, about this all.
On my son’s first day of school, I picked him up from after school somewhat eager to see his schoolmates. I was curious as to who had returned. What I saw shocked me. My son is in fourth grade. He just turned nine years old. I immediately noticed that one of his female classmates had blue hair. It was fully dyed blue and a cute bob haircut on top of it all. She looked quite hip. Then I saw one of his friends who used to have long hair last year. He not only cut his hair into a cute Justin Beiber cut (sort of), but he also dyed his hair blonde. I stared at him to make sure it was the same boy I knew from last year. He looked at me staring at him. Then, he immediately saw my hair color change and we bonded over our newly shared hair color. We giggled for a bit.
After we bonded and laughed, I took a step back mentally. This is an eight year old boy who just dyed his hair blonde. The girl had blue hair. Since when is fourth grade a fashion runway?
We all have different parenting styles and different realities and lives that we lead. I think I would love to tinker with my son’s hair at a later age. I would love to give him some snazzy haircuts. However, I am not too sure about the hair dye. Honestly, I still love having him be my baby and hair dye would just age him in my eyes. I guess I will see in perhaps four years how I feel then. Till that time, I’ll enjoy seeing him just as he is: my little baby boy.