You Can't Always Get What You Want

Every time Alexandra needs her haircut, the following argument ensues: "But, Mom, I want CURLY hair!"
Yes, she's seven years old (I didn't start begging for a perm until I was like 11!), but she's pretty on top of her appearance and all that. And she wants curly hair.
Right now, it's straighter than anything, blond, and shines in the sun. It's so pretty - and she hates it. She wants curly hair. At least she's not as bad as I was and still likes the color of her hair.

My hair used to be just as straight - and I hated it. Luckily (at the time, I would have thought so, at least), it was the 80s and I was able to convince my mother that I should have a perm and my hair should be curly.

We won't discuss the poodle-like perms that ensued.

Anyway - luckily (and I truly do believe that this IS lucky) I survived the eighties - and I know the damage that perms do to one's hair. She so is NOT getting a perm.

And my hair problems? Well, I guess I got what I wanted. I realized tonight, as I looked at my windblown mess of hair that it's just the amount of curl that I'd always wanted when I was in junior high - I got my 80s curliness - just a couple of decades late. I spent what seems like (and may have been) a couple of years attempting to straighten it - blowdrying, straightening irons, but the straight never stuck.

Tonight I've decided to accept the semi-tangled mop of loose curls that I'd have traded for straight and silky hair in a heartbeat. Instead of complaining about the fact that my hair has a mind of its own, I'm going to embrace it.

I'm hoping that setting this precedent with Alexandra will model better hair-esteem.
I couldn't bear to see her beautiful straight hair in frizzy poodle curls!