Hairy Adventures

When I was pregnant with Noah, I suffered horrible heartburn.  Every. Single. Day.  There's a wives' tale this causes your baby to have lots of hair.  In Noah's case, it was very true.

He was born with a head full of dark hair.

As a toddler, he had the sweetest curls and his hair began to lighten a bit.

Though he was blessed with good, thick, curly hair he was cursed with a double crown. When he was younger, he called it a "double crayon" and would pout when I'd lick my hand and force it to tame.

One year, as I was cutting his hair, he asked if he could have a "real person" do it.  That ended my days trimming  -but not styling.  Through all the years, he's asked me for help with his hair.  I too have thick curly hair and know what a pain it can be.  You either cut it short or learn to work around it.  As a boy, he doesn't have the patience but he likes having different hairstyles.


And like most with curly hair, you always long for something different.  He played ball with a boy who had slick straight hair that flipped when he dribbled across the court.  Noah wanted his hair.  Much as I tried, his tight curls wouldn't give.  So we had a chemical straightener applied at a salon.  Though we pulled it off, those mornings were torture.  He was convinced I was going to burn off his ear with my flat iron.

As he grew older and started to drive, he began to branch out more on his hairstyles.  In the summer, he's usually more adventurous and tends to let it grow out.  Which in his case, can become pretty hairy.

This is a version when the curls are "tamed"...

I love running my fingers through those curls.  Though these days, the older her gets, I wonder what other girls might as well. 

This summer, he shocked us by coming home with a mini mohawk.  Though it startled me when he first came in, I quickly fell in love.

             

I wish I'd taken photos since the start of the school year because almost every day he asks me to do something different with his hair.

We've slicked it back old school style, straightened to the side, let it be curly, afro-like, and this morning it's grown long enough to full spike it.

He kept his eyes closed the whole time and was shocked it got so high.  He's already so tall but with the spike it makes him seem even bigger.  I love how it turned out but, most of all, I love his confidence and willingness to be himself.  In a world of copycats, I'm proud he marches to the beat of his own drum.

 

 

And I'll happily be his stylist as long as he allows because our mornings bring me lots of JOY!

Senior Sentiments

I almost lost it in the underwear aisle.

Back to school shopping with my son, it hit me this was more than likely our last outing for such a thing.  Part of me tearing up and the other wanting to laugh at how sentimental one can become about buying boxers with their kid, er -nearly grown man.

I'm facing this season with the heavy weighted knowledge that it is our final year as mom and child.

My baby is entering his senior year.  Towering over us, his large frame makes most think he's already graduated college.  At 17, there are ways he's still very much a boy though.  The Nerf attacks he and his friend has through my house when together is proof.  But in many ways, he is changing into a responsible adult.

This teetering on adulthood has my momma-heart bursting with emotions.

His last "first day of school" found me sobbing, after he pulled out of the driveway.  My husband shook his head, not understanding my reason for tears.

But a mom is forever connected to her child.  Growing inside inside my belly for nearly a year, our hearts beat in sync.  And with each step further into becoming an adult, I feel that tether being stretched.

Nobody really warns you of this stage of parenting.

Sure, you hear, "they grow so fast."  And, as you're buying shoes and pants mid-school year, because he's already outgrown them, this knowledge is easy to understand.  Yet, I wasn't prepared for how quickly the years would pass by.  It seems as if I have blinked to find my little boy standing before me as a man.

This weekend, he asked if we could go out.  As the waitress brought our tickets, he quickly grabbed them. And again, as we pulled into the drive-in, he handed his cash to pay.  I was tickled enough he chose to spend a free Saturday with his parents, much less offer to cover the cost.

By the first of the year, he'll be officially an adult.  Next summer, a college student.  With such milestones hovering, it is difficult to not feel like a giant clock is counting down the days you have left with them.

I'm trying to embrace the days instead.  To not dwell on the lasts but to soak up the moments.  To let my heart record more than my phone does so I am fully present.  To linger in the laughter and simple joys.  To lift up thanks for the blessing it is to be called "momma" and to hear it spoken from his stubbled lips but still baby face.