A common trend amongst women of newborn children is to crop their hair several inches shorter. Why the tendency? Several reasons, really. For one, it’s incredibly painful for a tiny baby to ensnare their fingers in their mother’s locks, only to have their hand clench unexpectedly around a wad of hair. To make matters worse, their little arms usually start tugging and flailing and soon enough, their poor momma’s head is being jerked back and forth at the mercy of their babe. And don’t get me started on how long hair gets in the way of nursing, how it always gets spit up in it and inevitably gets trapped under the diaper bag strap.
After Claire was born, I tried my best to ignore the torturous price of flowing hair. I had a goal in mind: it was time to donate to Locks of Love again.
The last few months, my hair has gotten a mind of it’s own. While Claire no longer seizes it with a death grip, it has been escaping car doors at the last minute only to get pinched right as I slam it shut. Once, I bent over to pick up a hose I’d been employing to fill the horses’ water tank. I didn’t happen to notice that I was also holding a clump of hair in my fist. With one quick jerk, the hose slithered back and I was holding onto the tangle of hair I ripped clean from my scalp.
|Do you see that knot?! Evie’s been a hair twirler for a while. She got good enough that I had to start hacking off pieces because there was no way a comb was going to get through the snarls.|
Speaking of tangles, I’d get a particular snarl at the nape of my neck, regardless of how often I combed or conditioned. It appears that the Eliker girls are destined to have dreadlocks of our own creation.
I’d waited long enough. While I am a huge fan of long hair–braiding it, putting it in a high pony tail, letting it whip around while loose–my mane was more than sufficient to offer to a child suffering from hairlessness due to cancer treatment or aleopecia (an immune deficiency disease where hair randomly falls out), among other conditions.
So far, I say good riddance. It took Anne, the stylist, a few good snips of the scissors to get through my ponytail but going from long to short is incredibly liberating. Other than feeling a bit lightheaded and naked (I had to double check I’d put on my dress for church yesterday . . . okay, kidding, but it did feel weird not having my heavy tresses draped across my back), I’m enjoying the transition back to cropped.
At the same time, I won’t lie–there will come a time that I will miss the length too. When it finally does sprout out long enough, I’m sure I’ll be raring to put it on the chopping block again so that someone else can put it to good use.
I filled out the form and slid my hair in an envelope to send it on it’s merry way. I also have been religiously taking my vitamins to aid my hair in making a reappearance. I hope you consider offering a piece of yourself to someone else who could use the help, especially if you’ve never gone short. What better reason could there be?! Plus, it’s a noble cause I’ve heard is on many-a-bucket lists. I know it’s one of my goals to cross off!