At nearly 9 o’clock last night our home was hit with a storm of pure chaos. For months our teenage daughter has been talking about pink hair. Her mommy (who is a rock star mama by the way!) and typically extra strict daddy (that is what dads of daughters do) finally gave their blessing.
She found her perfect shade and her precious Aunt Jenn took the time to make it happen.
Apparently the dye didn’t take the way our diva wanted it to. I thought it was lovely. Her darker blonde strands were a vibrant strawberry blonde and her highlights were bright pink. Apparently Pinterest created other expectations for this little girl.
Enter the storm. What a storm a hormonal teenage girl can create! She was tearful and full of self-loathing. Horrible descriptions of herself spewed from her lips. She was in a full-blown tantrum. She was threatening to skip Pilgrimage this weekend with her church friends over pink hair. I watched her and listened in complete shock.
She was gorgeous. She can’t help but be so dang pretty all the time. Her Aunt had given her pink hair, but it just wasn’t “pink enough”.
Just before they closed, I ran into a beauty supply store and bought pink and blonde dyes and conditioners and a color stripper and all kinds of other stuff. She couldn’t tell me what she wanted because of her storm, so I just bought every scenario.
I rushed home and we came up with a plan. She was committing to pink. I acted confident, but after seeing such a storm over hair that was perfectly pretty, I was worried she would hate it and start back with all of that self-hatred.
This child is one of those lucky girls with gorgeous thick hair. It falls just right, she doesn’t have to blow dry it. You know, the “that’s just not fair” kind of hair. That was a ton of hair! Let me take a minute to tip my hat to you readers who do hair for a living! Wow! I was whooped.
Two hours and several steps later, we were done. I had worked all day, woke up just before 5am, cleaned the house, worked out, and got her little brother ready for bed. Hair was the last thing I wanted to be doing.
Even though I was tired, I took the opportunity to talk to her. She is so busy and is getting too cool to hang out with me. I couldn’t recall the last time we talked like that.
I took every chance I could to listen to her. I’ve never raised or loved a teen before and they’re very mysterious creatures. I got the scoop on what she is watching on TV, her friends, basketball try-outs, you name it!
I made sure to ask if she had thanked her Aunt and did the typical “step-mama stuff ” but for 2 whole hours she was mostly just chatting with me like friends.
Now at nearly 1 a.m. I was all tuckered out. I have no idea if she is happy with her hair. I will have to wait 60 more minutes until that bedroom door swings open to ask.
While I am a nervous wreck about her opinion of her hair, I am sort of glad that this happened. I got to connect with a child who is becoming a young lady in a world that scares the crap out of this parent.
So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
To say this child is a good girl is an understatement. Her parents have done an amazing job molding her and raising her to be a lady. I’m just grateful to be a part of it and to bear witness to her development.
Train up a child in the way he should go;
Even when he is old he will not depart from it.
Pink hair may have been a dangerous choice, but I would take that gamble any day if it meant I could talk to my sweet step-daughter for that long again. I no longer get that dialogue on good or normal days.
The younger ones gush about everything. They will talk so much they narrate what I am already watching them do! They WANT to share with me.
When we are new in our faith, or little ones if you will, we are hungry. We want to talk to God all the time. We want to share it all.
As that faith brings confidence and security, we can sometimes think that “we got this” or “know better” and forget to talk to God.
“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
I know I am guilty of this. Let me have a good day and God may get a pitiful “thanks for this day” but you can bet I have a 10 page monologue for Him when a storm hits. I never consider that He may just want me to talk without pink hair or a heart full of unfulfilled expectation.
“The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.”
This morning I simply started with, “Hey God!”. I even threw in what my son says every morning: “Good morning, Jesus!”
It’s a start. Being a Trembley continues to teach me so much about my faith and my relationship with God. Funny how kids can raise you back, pink hair and all.