One Fine Mess

Abby has finally gotten to that age where her appearance is starting to matter to her. Well, more often than not anyway. I think the key is whether or not she currently has a crush on anyone. When she’s crushing she tends to spend a little more time making sure she is looking her best. When her hair looks good and her socks match, well something’s up my friends!

Except for a short period of time during kindergarten, Alex has always paid attention to how she looked. Clothes, hair, the whole nine yards. Abby? Not so much. Alex agonizes over every clothing choice. Abby has to be monitored or she will go out looking like a rodeo clown.

We long for the day when Abby will put on “normal” clothes every day instead of trying to make a long sleeve t-shirt worn under a tube top with pajama bottoms pass for acceptable school attire. She is such a free spirit.

It is apparent that the music she is marching to is not being played by a drummer. For that matter she is not marching either. If you stand close enough to her, you can actually hear a New Orleans Jazz Band playing. No lie, I swear.

She is such a unique individual, I try to give her poetic license in her choice of outfits. I can usually live with with her selections, within reason. I do like for them to be season appropriate and they must halfway make sense. Her hair is what drives me nuts. She has very fine hair and a lot of it. She can brush it and as soon as she turns to leave the room, it’s all messy again.

She is also tender headed and when you have fine hair it will wind around itself at the nape of the neck and tangle up in a big rat’s nest if you aren’t careful. She can’t stand the pain of brushing out tangles so she will just brush the top layer and leave the knots underneath. If you leave her to her own devices long enough, she will just let her hair morph into dreadlocks.

When we were on vacation this past summer I did just that, left her to her own devices. We stayed pretty busy and for five days she pulled her hair up with a rubber band so I didn’t it give more than a cursory glance. In the back of my mind I knew the day of reckoning would be upon us but I ignored the pit in my stomach and thought happy thoughts. Big Mistake. I should have listened to my gut.

School was starting three days after we were scheduled to return from vacation, so our last day there I decided to brush her hair out for her. The first brush stroke kicked up a rabbit! It took foreverrrrrr to get the tangles out of her hair. She cried from pain, I muttered under my breath, it was not a pretty sight.

Things have not changed much since vacation. Hairs a mess and during the ice storm two weeks ago I don’t think she brushed her hair once. All I can say is that it wouldn’t hurt my feelings any if she took a shine to someone soon.