6 weeks and 45 minutes of hair

You may have read posts about Megan's hair before. In fact, I think I've been blogging about it since she was born.

Well, turns out, her hair is AWESOME. It's crazy, but I love it. No other race can get away with having adorable little puffs all over their heads. And, frankly, I don't think any other child with puffs all over her head is as adorable as our Megan. Our girl was born with a bushel of hair and it's only grown bushier since. I was scared it would be too hard to manage, but, luckily, with a little help, it's kinda fun and quite rewarding. One of those things that makes me feel like a real mommy.

My friend, Monica, over at In Plain English, graciously offered to let me watch her do her daughter's hair. If it weren't for Monica, our Megan would still be donning a matted fro. You should check out Monica's blog. She's an amazing woman, fabulous mom, & great writer! Thanks again for all the tips!

Step One: Give the Megster a bath, washing her hair with Olive Oil Shampoo & Conditioner (which actually smells surprisingly yummy!):

Step Two: Bring all necessities downstairs for hair-making session. This includes her hair-accessories-bin, hairclips, boar bristle brush, fine-toothed comb, virgin coconut oil & hair creme, among other things.

Step Three: Put baby in exersaucer & turn on Baby Einstein. Go ahead and judge me for allowing my child to watch the big black box.

Step Four: Wet her head with water & coconut oil, water & creme, or all three!

Step Five: Spend about 45 minutes brushing, wetting, parting, puffing (clarification: puffing, as in, making-puffs-out-of-hair-on-a-baby's-head; not as in huffing-and-puffing-and-blowing-the-house-down... in case you were wondering), and parting, combing, wetting and brushing each section, and again and again.

I can't wait until she is older and is able to sit still for more than 30 seconds at a time. It's hard to make straight lines in her hair with her bouncing up & down, moving around the exersaucer, & trying to grab the comb out of my hands. Also, her curls are so tight that it's hard to split the curls in half when needed. And through all of this, I have to make sure not to make her puffs too tight, pull on her hair, or break her brittle curls.

Unfortunately, her hair gets ridiculously messed up almost minutes after it is done. Megan tugs on her hair when she's sleepy and loves to decorate her hair with food. Also, she ruins it when she sleeps (for obvious reasons). It usually looks horrid by Thursday night, so it all comes out & she goes fro-style until Saturday morning.

This was the first week of hair-do (from this angle you can't see how bad it actually was)

Week 2 (the parts were not very crisp)

Week 3 (Q: does it even look any different than the other weeks?)
Week 4 (A: yes, each week the parts are in a different place, to prevent her hair from growing in a certain direction)

Week 5 (Q: is that a pizza hairstyle?)

(A: It used to be a pizza hairstyle, but Megan likes to "style" her hair with bits of tomato, strawberries, pickles, mac & cheese, and anything else she's eating. I guess you could still call it pizza; just not any type of pizza I'd like to eat.)

Week 6 (one of my favorites, and the parts are finally crisp!):

You might have noticed that all of these styles are mostly on top of her head. This is for two reasons: 1) She doesn't have much hair on the back of her head (from rubbing it off while sleeping), and 2) If I put the puffs on the sides of her head then it might hurt her while she sleeps. When she grow out of naps-- or at least uses a pillow-- I won't have to worry about that so much. Also, when she's older, I can take her hair out every night and fix it up all nice-n-purdy every morning. Right now I just don't think all that work would be worth it.

And, it's a good thing Megan's hair gets the Princess Treatment, because otherwise she'd be sportin' this crazy fro every day:

p.s.- For any of you out there with Princess Treatment experience, I'm happily taking suggestions.
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Mommy Soapbox

I've been meaning to blog about this for a while now.

I sometimes feel like being "just a mom" (and I hate that phrase) is not enough. I don't know if it's just the area I live in, or if it's the people I know, or if it's society creeping this thought into my life. Maybe it's a combination of all.

As you may know, I quit my teaching job well before we ever received Megan (but that's another story), in anticipation of being a parent. Then, when we didn't receive a baby right away I started teaching piano lessons. I continued to teach piano lessons until this past May, when Megan was 7 months old. I feel like other people think I should still be teaching. And maybe I feel a little bit of guilt because of it.

My reasons for quitting? Well, the reason I told everyone is that Megan was just getting too hard to manage. She had previously slept through almost all lessons, but, in April, started to change her schedule on me, making it difficult for me to teach. In addition, when she was awake she was a major distraction to my students. All of this is true.

But, the main reason I quit? I wanted to be "just a mom." Sure, I could have paid a babysitter. Sure, I could have arranged to have her Nana watch her every day. Sure, I could have kept teaching (I really liked it) and contributed money to our family. But, I didn't want to do that kind of work. I wanted to be something else. I wanted to give all my time to Megan, and to being a good wife.

Now, here's where the conflict sets in. Since my youth, I have always seen myself being a certain kind of mom. The kind of mom that stays home with her kids, the kind of mom that runs the kiddos to piano lessons and sports and picks them up from after-school activities. I always figured I'd have a bunch of kids together and, naturally, they would need me every moment of every day.

Now that I just have ONE (for now), part of me says, "you're not a full-time mom. Megan sleeps 3-4 hours a day, so you're really only a part-time mom." And then I feel GUILTY. I feel guilty that I'm not still working, and I feel guilty that I'm not contributing money to our home, when, maybe, I could. I feel guilty that I'm not doing-it-all. I feel guilty that I'm not one of those mommies out there who holds a full or part-time job and still manages to not send her kids to day care. I feel guilty when I see all the working moms out there and feel like they look down on me because I don't "do" anything. Not that I care what they think. Or maybe I do.

The thing that began my head spinning about this was actually a church event this summer. My stake puts on this thing called "Women's Retreat," which is this really wonderful experience with motivating speakers and uplifting messages and beautiful music, located in the mountains close by. As I went to these classes, and listened to these speakers, I noticed something. I noticed that, with only two exceptions (one class hosted by two ladies from my ward) that all the speakers were women with careers. These women were phenomenal. They were amazing. They had kids AND a career. They had a loving marriage AND a career. They had time to prepare a 1 1/2-hour class, AND they had a career. As uplifting as the experience was, it made me think that I should.... have a job. If I had a job, then I would have something to offer. And, when people ask me "what I do" I can say I "do" something, and they'll respect me for it.

Since when did being "just a mom" become less-than-best? Our church teaches that women belong in the home, rearing the children, and that the man is to provide for the family (see it here). Our church teaches the beauty of motherhood, and stresses how important it is to nurture our sweet little children. We are reminded again and again of our role in the Gospel and on the earth. We are told of the noble calling of being a mother. We are encouraged to stay home if we can. Why, then, do I feel pressure to DO more? Why do I feel like being a stay-at-home-mother isn't good enough? Why do I feel this way, even within the church, when I know being at home is noble and wonderful and it is what I should be doing?

It's easy to say that it's a sacrifice to be a working mother, for obvious reasons. But, I ask this: isn't it yet a sacrifice not to work, and not to make more money, when you could easily do so? Is it not a sacrifice to give that up? I have my dream job. I dreamt about being a mother since I was young, and now that I am finally living my dream, why do I feel pressure to give up on my dream? Why do I feel like I should have a career?

Elder Dallin H. Oaks, an apostle from our Church, said it best when he gave a talk called Good, Better, Best. I feel that, for me, working would be good, but staying home is best. Ah. I guess I'm attempting to validate myself.

I want being-a-stay-at-home-mom to be good enough. I don't want to work. I want to be home. I want my work to be my home. I want my work to be my kids. I want my work to only be bringing up my children to know their Savior and to raise them to love the Gospel.

Why is that not enough?
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The cutest girl doing the cutest things in the cutest videos

(You may have already seen these on Facebook...)

In this video, Megan shows her tongue skills. This all came to be when she started getting in her top teeth, and she would move her tongue back and forth to feel them. Then, we helped her add sound to the movement. And, wha-la! Megan Tongue Trick!

(You may need to make this video full-screen to see all the action)



This next video was taken in Michigan when we went to a restaurant and didn't have much to feed her... enjoy!

A Bedtime Story

Once upon a time, in a land not-so-far-away, there lived a handsome prince. This handsome prince had a beautiful princess daughter. One night, while the prince was putting his sweet little princess to sleep, he was singing to her, her head resting upon his shoulder.

While he sang to her, he patted her little princess bottom. For a moment, he stopped patting her little bottom. In his abscence, Little Princess took her own little hand and patted her own little bottom. Handsome Prince patted again, then stopped, and Little Princess took over.

This switch-back patting continued until Little Princess fell alseep happily ever after... or, until morning, that is.

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A trek into the unknown

When we adopted Megan I knew that eventually the day would come that I would have to invest in her hair. Honestly, I was hoping the day would never come because I was scared. Scared that I wouldn't know how to do it; scared that I would pull out her hair; scared that I wouldn't have the time; scared that I wouldn't enjoy it; scared that I would offend all African Americans by doing something hideous to Megan's cute little head.

However, I do have the resources to help me figure it out, I haven't pulled out her hair (yet), I have plenty of time, and I thought it was exciting and rewarding! As for whether I have offended anyone by adorning Megan's head, I know not. Only time will tell.

Here are some views of Megan's new head. I really don't know what to think of it; I don't know if it's cute or ridiculous. There wasn't really much else I could do with her hair because it's only long on the top. It will be nice when her hair starts growing in on the sides and back (but it could still be a few years). I've been looking on a zillion sites and blogs, and asking my friends-who've-done-this-before for advice. We don't have hundreds of dollars to spend on salons, so Meg will be going to Salon D'Harmony as long as possible.

So, what do you think? (Please, be honest. You're not going to hurt my feelings if you tell me you think it makes her look like Frankenstein, or that I'm totally incapable and should just shave it off.)

No matter what you think, I refuse to quit.

I refuse to be one of those white moms who can't do her daughter's hair.

I refuse to be one of those white moms whose girl has second-best hair.

I refuse to let her lose her identity because of my inability.

I will keep learning.

I will keep trying.

I will keep becoming the stylist she needs me to be.

We love you, Princess Megan!

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Delicious

My garden this year is seriously ridiculous. But, I'm not complaining. I just wish I had more room for it all.

Question: How does a garden grow from this:

To this?

Answer: sunshine, water, and a couple bags of turkey poo.

Vegetables, anyone?

Bittersweet

As of three days ago, Megan has finally come to the stage of must-be-held-at-every-moment-or-cries-her-head-off-all-day-long.

Yeah. Not so fun.

But, on the other hand, as of three days ago, she also came to a wonderful stage. It's the stage of cuddle-parents-very-often, for which we've been waiting a long time.

Yeah. We like that one.
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