Georgia and Isabelle both have long hair.
Georgia is of the “ridiculously long” end of the scale. She used to like her hair tied up, but in the last year she likes to wear her hair loose.
That is great for the first 15 minutes, but then sticky lollipops get stuck in it, her hair starts to develop dreadlocks, and by the end of the day it is a bit of a state.
Brushing or combing her hair is not a joy. She screams, I get annoyed and so it goes on.
I have asked her if she wants to trim her hair – but she feels strongly that she does not want to cut it at all. Rapunzel delusions.
I was combing Georgia’s hair recently and someone commented on how their daughter’s scalp is so sensitive and how hair brushing is such an issue and and and ….
Then I remembered that Georgia did not arrive happily sitting on her changing mat letting me comb her hair.
Georgia was born with a fair bit of hair, and by age one we were able to fashion basic ponytails – which would remain in for a 46 seconds.
I remember getting Georgia ready in the mornings for school and trying to “do”her hair.
She used to go absolutely bezerk!
I realised if I gave in to the hair and she gets her own way, then what is the next thing? Does she get to choose whether she wears her seat belt in the car, or do we start negotiating bed time?
The answer is a firm “no” on all of the above.
After a bit of begging, pleading, crying and threatening to get her to sit still to do her hair, I realised that only option was to move her changing mat to the floor.
Once she was dressed, I would get her to lie down, then I would put my one leg over her shoulders and my other leg over her legs so she could not kick me.
And this is the way I would do Georgia’s hair.
It was not pretty, it was no fun. It would have me effing and blinding, her screaming blue murder.
I knew it would be easier to just let her have her own way and send her to school without her hair being brushed.
But I persisted – it took about 5 days for her to stop fighting me so hard. I still pinned her down until she stopped fighting against me. When she stopped, I let her sit up, and I still kept my one leg over her legs, but she had her arms free.
As time went by, she eventually just sat on the mat and I could do her hair.
Her soul did not die, I did not break her wings – she is not mentally scarred from the interaction.
She learnt that she was not going to get her own way and if she was going to go ape shit on me, then I was going to need to bring in the big guns. It took about two weeks of wrestling and pinning her down, to get to the point where she would just sit and let me comb her hair.
I usually smile when someone says “Oh I could never comb my daughter’s hair if it was that long…..” and inside I say “yes you can if you aren’t against winning a bit of WWF!”