A Hot Mess

Big sigh. This hair issue has gone from bad to worse.

My sister-in-law wanted to make Viva an appointment to get her hair done this Saturday so she would be set for Thanksgiving. I responded that Viva doesn't want to get her hair pressed again, so I wanted to make sure the other stylist, who doesn't press hair but does "braids" (i.e. cornrows) was available.

"I thought Viva doesn't want braids, she said they made her hair hurt," Diva said.

"She doesn't want cornrows, she wants individual braids," I said.

"Well, that takes forever and that is really expensive," Diva said. And then she fixed her mouth to tell me that she was through with my child, that she didn't even know what she wanted to do with her hair, that she was trying to do something nice and that before she started doing this, Viva's hair looked a hot mess and she never ever saw her even look in a mirror and that she just can't be doing this etc., etc. and by the way YOU'RE WELCOME.

I remained calm (although WHAT THE F? You are THROUGH with my child? My child, who you just said looks A HOT MESS?! And then you are going to imply that I am ungrateful?) and said (as I had already said multiple times) thank you for doing this for Viva, but since it's not what she wants, it doesn't make sense to keep doing it, so why spend that money and time.

And then I prevented myself from having some kind of cardiac infarction, wished her a safe trip for Thanksgiving, and as I was saying it, realized she had already hung up on me.

Happy frickin' holidays. If you took my blood pressure right now I think it would be off the frickin' charts.

Long, Flowing Locks - Revisited

Yesterday, I told you about Viva’s excursions to the beauty shop over the past couple of months. Her braids were too tight, they were hurting her head and potentially damaging her hairline, and I asked the stylist and my sister-in-law Diva (who’s been facilitating this process, as well as providing financial backing) to give her scalp a break and put her hair in a loose style. I suggested box braids.

Instead, Viva came home with her hair pressed straight:

At Auntie Diva's, making krispy treats before coming home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And I am deeply conflicted. I am better off than Sweet Dub, who was furious, but I am conflicted, and here is why:

Since Viva was very small, I have told her how beautiful her natural hair is. I never wanted her to get caught up in the whole stupid “good hair” vs. “bad hair” ridiculousness that rears its ugly head when it comes to discussions of black hair. I try to take good care of her hair -- to trim the ends when it needs it, to keep it well-moisturized and in protective styles. I am a big advocate of loving what God gave you and rejecting any nonsense that your hair, the way it grows out of your head, is somehow “less than” if it is not straight and long. I love naturally curly and coily and kinky hair and I have made a decade-long effort to convey that to my baby.

In the meantime, Sweet Dub’s side of the family has been pushing for years for us to straighten Viva’s hair. “It would look so beautiful!” my mother-in-law would say.

“Her hair will look beautiful no matter what she does to it,” I would respond. “She has beautiful thick hair.”

“I am not teaching my baby that B.S. self-hatred,” Sweet Dub would say to his mom. “Leave it alone, there is nothing wrong with her hair. We are not teaching her that.”

And then we would speak of it no more. Until the next time. “Why are you so invested in this?!” Sweet Dub would say. “We are done, stop bugging us about it!”

But still the pressure kept on – not on us, as it turns out, but on Viva. “Do it for Granny,” my mother-in-law would say. “I just want to see it one time.”

So you see where this is going, right?

It really feels that this whole exercise of taking Viva to have her hair done for weeks was just a very well-laid plan, the culmination of which was:  Viva had her hair pressed straight without even understanding that’s what was about to happen. Now, they didn’t put chemicals in her hair, because I really would have gone off about that. But I hate that they did this without our true consent.

And here’s what has me more conflicted:  Viva loves it. She has been combing her hair, and brushing her hair, tossing her hair out of her face, keeping a scrunchie on hand at all times so she can pull it into a ponytail if she needs to, and even wrapping it, pinning it up, and wearing a satin bonnet at night. When her hair is natural, I have to remind her Every. Single. Night. To put a satin sleep cap on. Or to wear a shower cap when she bathes. It is infuriating.

And worse:  Ceeya sees all the attention this new hair is getting, and she now says she wants her hair “done” at the salon. This, from the kid who fights me every time I want to comb her hair into braids or puffs, or even just finger-comb it out into an afro. Yes, this, from the kid who loves to wear her hair “wild.”

Did you hear that loud scream? That was me.

Long, Flowing Locks

(Okay, so here’s the recreation of the post I lost yesterday.)

A couple of months ago, Sweet Dub’s sister, Diva, offered to take Viva to the beauty shop to get her hair done for the first day of school. Viva is getting older, maybe she needed a change. Diva is an empty nester, with no one at home to spoil. She offered not only to take Viva to the beauty shop this one time, but to take her regularly and pay for her hair to be done – to free up my Sunday hair-doing time and to spare us the added expense, since we are on a tight budget.

All well and good. Viva came home with her hair in tiny cornrows in a lovely way pattern across her head, with tiny braids spilling down her back. She looked very different, much more like a tween, and she liked having her hair in a more sophisticated style:

 

 

So every three weeks, we would drop her back off at the shop and Diva would pick her up, pay for her style, and take her out to eat. It was nice for them to have their own one-on-one time together.

But as time went on, the braider put Viva’s braids in more tightly, even though I had asked that she put the back part of her head in loose braids (she completely ignored that request). Viva complained that her head hurt, that it itched, and when I investigated what was bothering her, I found she was getting large red bumps at the nape of her neck. No, no, no. I do not like that. That is a one-way ticket to traction alopecia. Bumps be gone!

So I took the style down (a three-hour undertaking, as it involved tiny cornrows criss-crossing her scalp and intersecting in some places), deep conditioned her hair with a cap overnight, and then the next day restyled in some double-stranded twists, similar to this:

 

Image credit:  naturallycurly.com how-to video

 

I told Diva that we wanted to take a break from the cornrows because I was worried about the health of Viva’s hair. She said she was sure they could find a loose style which wouldn’t hurt, so Viva’s hair wouldn’t be clamped down to her head so tightly. I suggested box braids as a compromise (without the eyeshadow and...er...chestiness of the model below):

Image credit:  naturallycurly.com style gallery

 

Do you know Viva came home with her hair blown straight and pressed?!  Sweet Dub was furious. I was less than happy. 

 

Can you guess why?  Stay tuned for part two, coming tomorrow.