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hair

self-portrait by Ben

Ben is eight now, and he really seems more like a 10-year old.  He’s honing a fine sense of cynicism and irony that his 6-year old sister misses entirely.  He seems to realize that the world doesn’t revolve around him, but that it is also his to explore.  He’s becoming more of an independent agent.

We got a glimpse of this two years ago during a family trip to Los Angeles when Ben seemed to simultaneously realize that there are bathrooms everywhere and that they were his for the using.  He started abruptly leaving meals to find a waiter, inquire after the bathroom, and go visit it.  Once we’d ruled out urinary issues, we just let him do it with as much  trepidation as any of you would let your 6-year old traipse off through the back door of various Los Angeles eateries.  But it seemed important.

When Lucy was an infant, we went to our favorite Thai restaurant for dinner and the owner, who knew us, was so delighted to see the new baby that she swept her up and took her off to the kitchen to show her off.  I lasted about 2 minutes before I lept up, stormed the swinging kitchen doors and blew through that kitchen to find Lucy gurgling in the arms of an old Thai lady squatting on the floor. So letting Ben pursue his bathroom inspections was a challenge for us as parents.  But we could see that he looked a little taller and walked with a little more swagger as he did it.  He was in charge, master of his domain, in this case the men’s room.

My current such challenge with Ben has to do with his hair.  Those who live in our daily lives know that personal hygiene is not high on our value chart.  Some of this is good:  we’re not afraid to wear second-hand clothes, we don’t need to have the latest fashion, we embrace sensible shoes.  Some of this is not so good, namely the state of our hair.  I hate washing my hair and that apparently is a genetic thing.  Ben and Lucy would, if allowed, never wash their hair again, embracing finally a swirl of greasy, golden floss molded like a crazy hat to their heads.  They are neither fans of brushing, although who would be with the squirrels’ nests constructed so artfully on the backs of their heads?  So, when Mommy does finally insist on a shampoo, it’s a tragedy of Greek proportion.

And two nights ago I did insist.  Ben yowled and howled in despair, upon which Karl said “Ben, smell your hair.”  Ben stopped crying, grabbed a shank of hair, and inhaled deeply.  “Smells like tacos!” he said brightly, as if this were delightful and a good reason not to mess with it.  That night, we shampooed.

But now we come to the question of a hair cut.  Ben hasn’t had one in, well, I can’t remember how long.  His hair is down to his shoulders and his “bangs” are well past his nose.   Last night, Benjamin said, face in his dinner plate, and I quote:  “The disadvantage of having long hair is that it gets in your syrup when you’re slurping it off the plate.”  Table manners aside, I did wonder what my responsibility was.

And this is why I bring up the Bathroom Quest and Ben’s thrumming independence.  Whose choice is the haircut?  I know my father will be groaning and wondering when his daughter became one of those Awful Parents Who Don’t Parent [hi Dad!], but I really am wondering.  I made Ben wash the hair.  Do I make him cut the hair?  Hair that smells like tacos crosses my line.  Do I have line for hair that hides your nose?  Drags in your syrup?

This makes me remember a haircut I had in the 80’s.  On one side of my head, my hair came to just above my chin, whereupon it spiraled down and around my neck to land at my shoulder on the other side.  I loved that haircut.  I felt different and creative and completely in charge of myself.  And I guess I’m wondering if Ben feels that way about his Axel Rose look.  And I seem to remember my own dear father being actually quite delighted by that spirally haircut of mine.  I wonder if he saw the independence and sense of self in me that I see blooming in Ben.  So maybe I’m wrong about Dad.  Maybe he’ll think I’m parenting just fine when I decide to insist on the wash, but wait on the cut.

Watching a human become indpendent and his very own self is a thrill.

8 Comments

  1. emily grix wrote:

    Good choice, Sara. I love his long locks (speaking as a sister of a long-haired, dread-locked brother whose mother didn’t embrace his independent spirit). Let if grow…just don’t let it stink 🙂

    Thursday, January 29, 2009 at 7:32 pm | Permalink
  2. Debbi wrote:

    Pick your battles! I Ben wouldn’t be “Ben” without his long hair! He’llwant to get it cut when someone mistakes him for a girl! I tell Dylan that as long as he takes care of it, he can have it as long as he wants. He just chose to have it all cut off!

    Thursday, January 29, 2009 at 7:41 pm | Permalink
  3. Andrew wrote:

    I noticed Ben with a lock of hair stuck in the corner of his mouth the other day – reminded me of my sister. Andrew doesn’t want his cut either. His uncles both have long hair, and so does Ben, so he’ll be in distinguished company if he grows it out [which is fine with me]. I’m sure he’ll never get his hair high and tight like me – he has two or three weird quarter-sized bald spots just aft of his crown, and if he got his hair all shaved he would look like a coconut.

    Sunday, February 1, 2009 at 11:18 am | Permalink
  4. Michael Van Houten wrote:

    Sara…LOVING the blog! Regarding Ben’s hair, you could try to have the best of both worlds (or is it the worst?) and insist that if he wants to keep his hair long it must be shampooed X number of times per week. You can also tell him that in high school I experimented with not washing my hair for a couple months and that now I’m bald (one might not necessarily result in the other, but he doesn’t have to know that).

    Monday, February 2, 2009 at 11:58 am | Permalink
  5. Lorilyn wrote:

    Really I think Ben’s long taco-smelling hair is a very hopeful thing. If one can live with that sort of disorder right over one’s face, think of all the control hang-ups that won’t find a hook to hang on in him.

    Tuesday, February 3, 2009 at 8:34 pm | Permalink
  6. Ben's Gram wrote:

    Maybe Ben will change his mind after several days swimming in G & G’s pool. And if he doesn’t, at least his hair will be well-chlorinated. Wise Mommy to pick your battles, and say “Yes” as often as you can.

    Thursday, February 5, 2009 at 1:20 pm | Permalink
  7. If I can comment here, I’m a jQuery fan which is how I found your blog. I know you don’t know me, but up until about 3 weeks ago, I had hair down to my chest. So the subject of hair is of close personal interest to me.

    When I was in high school, my parents forced me to make a decicion about my hair. At that time it was barely to my shoulders, but they told me that if I didn’t cut my hair, they’d take away my car. Anyway, I grudgingly cut my hair, but I harbored quite a lot of ill will towards them for a long time.

    Anyway, I’d err on the side of letting your son be himself. He sounds like a swell young man…don’t give him reason to dislike you simply because you and he butt heads on something that’s relatively minor.

    As for the syrup? Buy him a pack of hairbands ($.99 at Walmart) and show him how to use them. Eventually he’ll either learn how to deal with long hair and keeping it out of his face, or he’ll decide he doesn’t want the hassle and cut it. In both cases you’ve allowed him to make the choice which is always the best solution. As parents we tell our kids “no” so much that isn’t it a good thing when we can tell them “yes”?

    Good luck and God Bless.

    Friday, February 6, 2009 at 2:43 pm | Permalink
  8. I’m with Andy Matthews and the other correspondents! Let it be. Just don’t let it be dirty!

    Carole and Arend have a fine young man who had hair issues for awhile. Now he’s a swimmer and shaves his head.

    Monday, March 30, 2009 at 9:53 am | Permalink

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