Clinica Sierra Vista WIC

Dos & Don'ts of 'Dos

by Tracie Grimes
Tracie is a monthly contributor to Kern County Family Magazine

My hair is starting to consume me.  I hope you don’t have a mental picture of that Looney Tunes character that’s all hair and in the shape of a heart, because I don’t mean my hair is consuming me in a literal sense.  I still have a few relatively hair-free spots here and there.  I mean, it’s starting to consume me in terms of maintenance.  It’s taking a lot longer to prep myself just so I’m able to walk out the door knowing that I won’t scare small children.

My hair has become very moody these days, and I never know what kind of mood it’s going to be in.  Sometimes, it’s in the mood to lie down in soft waves.  Other times, it wants to stick up like an Italian Cyprus tree.  I just never know.  It’s gotten so bad that I’ve started backing into the bathroom mirror and slowly turning around, so I have a chance to prepare myself for the worst.  That way, I can stifle whatever scream of terror may rise in my throat should I look too quickly before I’m fully awake.

It’s not just that I’ve been having a bad hair day a day here or a day there.  It’s that I’ve been having a bad hair decade.  Even my kids have noticed.  “Gee, Mom, nice hair,” is inevitably a statement one of my daughters will make after I’ve been engaged in a battle of wills with my hair.  The daughter who makes that statement is automatically taken out of my will.

It’s not like I haven’t tried.  I’ve spent probably thousands of dollars on products: fat curling irons, tiny curling irons, straightening irons (if there’s an iron in the hair care section of Target, I’m sure I have it), hot curlers, blow dryers – all to no avail.  If my hair decides it wants to be frizzy that day, nothing short of an entire jar of Dippity Do (or this century’s equivalent) is going to make it lay down flat.

The icing on the cake came the other day when, after being at work for at least an hour and having met with at least a couple of people, I passed a mirror and noticed that I had leaves, a couple of twigs, and if I’m not mistaken, a bit of a spider web sitting right in my hair.  “Are you kidding me?” I asked my reflection.  

Hair maintenance is truly beginning to overwhelm me.  Now, I not only have to fight with my hair to try and bend it against its will, I have to check it every hour or so to make sure that it hasn’t started gathering random items.

I think I’m beginning to see what Nora Ephron (God rest her soul) meant when she said, “there is an upside to death; you don’t have to worry about your hair.”

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Tags: Featured Story, Health

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