Braids

Last week, Paul braided Ellie's hair for the first time. This is significant because she, very much unlike me, hates to have her hair brushed or styled. We do quick and ugly princess ponytails most mornings, frequently while pinning her squirming body between our thighs. If I want to do something fancy, like two princess ponytails with straight parts, it's usually a two-adult job. She was in an unusually compliant mood one evening, so Paul made his first daughter hair braiding attempt. Here's the result:

From 2007-02

I don't think I ever told you about the braiding class we took a couple of years ago. Technically, Paul took the class; I was just his model. I didn't want to be the only one who knew how to style our daughters' hair, so we enrolled in a course at a local community college.

All the other students came with plastic heads or cheap wigs on styrofoam models; Paul had me. Since I love to have people play with my hair, it was a lovely morning for me - right up until the part where he wanted me to leave his handiwork in place after we left campus. Then it was just embarrassing.

All the other students were women, of course.

And, at this particular urban campus, all of the other students were also black.

They got a real kick out of Paul's presence in the class, and he got a kick out of the attention and positive feedback. And especially the (presumably joking) salon job offer from the instructor.

Unsurprisingly, the braiding we learned was not exactly the braiding I'd had in mind. Still, I was impressed with Paul's quick aptitude with the "natural strand twist," and also impressed that my hair could hold such a style.

We didn't learn anything particularly useful (we'd have had to go back for the intermediate and advanced classes to be able to actually apply the braiding skills we'd seen in the beginners class). But it was fun. And pretty funny, too.

I'm no good at braiding either. Hopefully Ellie will develop a proficiency at it before her little sister has enough hair to braid.

From 2007-02