Hair is big around here. Both kids were born with full heads of hair, which my aunt says runs in my side of the family, and J. has had a catalog of coifs over the years, ranging from the current short, clean cut 'do, which he's growing out, to twists, braids, puffy afro and more.
I'm currently sporting a long, relaxed hairdo down to my shoulder blades, courtesy of two semi-close together pregnancies and related hormones, and the retirement of my longtime stylist. She was originally from Canada where apparently the word "trim" means cut off an inch and a half, thereby negating efforts to grow it out.
I've
written before about the process of managing Ava and Dylan's hair day to day. Now Dylan's trying to comb his 'fro just like dad.
And this week, Ava asked for her hair to be blown out instead of styled wet.
Diana Ross-esque results below.
She was so busy dancing around and twirling it was hard to catch her on camera. Note to self: learn to use sport mode on camera. Also: replenish supply of headbands and save blowouts for weekends. Because the next day, after spending the morning playing at school outside in the wind, her hair looked like a rat's nest. A very, bouncy, rat's nest.
