Therapeutic musings mixed with humorous ramblings and sometimes spiritual notations of life as I know it in written form. A diary of my heart inspired by life.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Hair's the Deal of Self Expression
I grew up the baby of the family which is a pretty sweet deal. Of course I was the baby out of two kids, so I'm sure that makes a difference. I didn't have to struggle to find my place in the family dynamics because all I had to do was be polar opposite of my brother and title myself as unique. I will totally agree that the oldest child has the suckiest position, even in my little nest of three (sorry child with the middle child syndrome). Everything with your first child is a HONKIN' big deal... The first steps, the first tooth, the first everything is just huge. As far as discipline goes, I wanted my first to be perfect. I didn't want a child no one else wanted to be around so I was way more strict with her than the other two. Plus the first child has to break the parents in.... Kids don't come with instructions so it's trial by error and the first child gets stuck with most of the bad parenting decisions (this according to the parenting book of Jackie). By the second child you are pretty much just trying to keep your head above the water and keep them from killing one another, not much time for a big honkin' deal about anything. With the third child there's a little bit of the, "been there, done that" feeling added to the exhaustion of parenting period till it's a hope and prayer they make it through childhood alive. My two oldest kids, who are now both adults, freely admit the baby got all the breaks. They paved the way for him, wore me completely out, and he got the a shell of the parent I once was.... Sweet deal. He's probably had a little more trouble distinguishing who he is against two, not one, polar opposite personalities. His biggest distinguishing mark is he is super, super, quiet!!! I'm not sure he really embraces that as his unique trait. So he's doing what a lot of kids do and is using his hair to make a statement. His older brother tried this trick, but when he let his hair grow out it grew into beautiful shiny ebony ringlets. Everybody loved his hair, me included, which totally stole his thunder and took the joy out of the whole deal. So the baby has let his hair get long. It's been dark, it's been light and just recently I dyed it black. The black actually looks pretty good. It's really shiny, he got a cool cut, yet it's still funky long. If I had my rathers, it would probably be cropped short and left his natural color. In looking at the great scheme of things (and really being too tired to argue), his hair is nothing less, nothing more than a means of self-expression.... A way of distinguishing himself from the rest of the pack. I know deep down inside he secretly hopes it drives me bonkers, but sadly I went there years ago.