Lily and all her beautiful curls on wash day. |
Here is my hair routine: Every morning I pull it back in a sloppy ponytail. I try to remember to brush it and pull it back into a neat ponytail before I leave the house. The End.
So, you can imagine that when we learned we would be raising an African daughter, her hair was something of an issue. I was determined to "do" Lily's hair. I didn't want her to have what I call, "white mama hair". My apologies to all those mamas (white and black) who let their children have wild, free flowing hair. I was raised by a Jamaican nanny, and that is just not happening. My goal was simple: every day she looks like a lovely, talented Black woman did her hair.
one of Lily's first hair dos... just one little puff! |
I started on a quick, steep learning curve. All I can say is: God Bless the Internet! Happy Girl Hair, Girls Love Your Girls, youtube... other adoptive mamas and African-American women willing to share their experience and wisdom saved me (and Lily's hair). What a wonderful community I found!
After nearly a year of learning, I love doing Lily's hair, and I take a lot of pride in how she looks. It was easy in the beginning: she and Daniel had both had their heads shaved a few weeks before they came home. Lily because she had a scalp infection, and Daniel because that's how boy's hair is in Ethiopia. Short! (And we're keeping it short, thanks to my handy buzz cut kit!) So she had just a few little curls to admire.
Lily admiring her new hair style. Part of our routine is admiring our gorgeous selves in a mirror. |
This is how hair gets done: in the highchair, with snacks and TV. |
Then we sit down and I start combing and parting and making pretty happen.
Her curls are really delicious. Big and bouncy and shiny and healthy. Just like her.
A few weeks ago, while Lily was wearing a head full of "twists", I received the ultimate compliment. An African American woman (with beautiful natural hair), stopped me to ask me how I did Lily's hair, and say how cute it looks. I nearly cried. But I kept my composure, and only squealed with delight once she was out of hearing. I hope.
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