True Inspiration

Before I was ever anybody's mother I was a nerdy tomboy. I read books for fun. I wrote books for even more fun. I'm a Lakers fan, and a Cowboys fan, and yes, I know those are two different sports. I am as comfortable watching General Hospital as I am watching the playoffs. That's just how I roll. I was not always comfortable, however, playing in Barbie's hair. Hahaha.



When I was pregnant with my son, one of my sorors told me "I can see you having a son first. No muss. No fuss. Just brush the hair a little bit, and ya'll can just go!" This, of course, from someone who sees me regularly and knows I've always got "all this hair" up in a trusty ponytail or bun--which is why transitioning with protective styles isn't going to be all that drastic for me. But I digress.



For the longest time I didn't really do much with my baby's curly head. I kept it clean, of course (I am a bit of a germaphobe, by the way), but there was no real "styling" going on. I love his little fro, it's about as wild and full of personality as he is. Also, he's not the kind of kid who's willing to sit still long enough to get "that braids and beads thing" done. One day I looked at his thirsty little curls and decided I was going to take better care of his hair, because it wasn't like I didn't know how to deal with curly hair. I'd worn my own natural before. I have the patience, I'll find the time, and he's just so cute when his hair is happy!



Taking on this new interest in my son's hair kinda brought me back to my own. I missed my curls, and wouldn't it be semi-cute (albeit semi-lame) for us to rock matching fros? I can dig it! That was the last little nudge I needed. Now I'm all in!