Keira has lovely hair.
Correction: Keira has lovely hair when she lets me brush it.
I, on the other hand, do not have particularly remarkable hair in any respect. Yes, it’s blonde, but blonde with a little chemical help these days. If you gathered all my hair up into a ponytail, and did the same with my daughter’s, Keira would probably have more. It’s quite thick.
Naturally, this leads to problems. When I approach her with the brush in the mornings, she ups and runs away, as if I were pursuing her with a motley of torture instruments. Which I am, in a way, because I never get a good brushing in, and the knots of the days…weeks…before are never really worked out properly.
It usually results in a yelling match:
Karen: Keira, I need to brush your hair.
Keira: I don’t want to!
Karen (annoyed, and at wit’s end): Do you want me to go get the scissors? Because I will go and get the scissors and cut all your hair off if you don’t let me brush it.
Keira gives me a thunderous look, and eventually concedes to my will.
Now, I don’t like having to threat like that. I hate to, in all honesty.
[Because it is at that precise moment, when all I need is a hunchback, a missing top tooth, and a raggy shawl thrown over my shoulders, and I could be some sort of Dickensian villainess, all shrieks and threats; full of malevolence, due to her own tragic upbringing.]
So, come on, mothers of girls. How do you get to brush their hair? Do you resort to extortive lengths like I do?
{ 16 comments… read them below or add one }
My three girls all had short hair at that age – pretty little bobs that were easy to maintain. I’m useless at doing hair – never mind the dramas with brushing knots out – so it was the best way. As they hit school and wanted long hair, I said ‘You can have long hair when you can brush it and do it up in a pony tail by yourself.” The older two taught themselves pretty quickly. The youngest – even now at 9 – is still totally useless – plus she also always whined and cried and carried on as you’ve described above. We all got sick of doing her hair (because I’d make the older two help when we were in a rush), and so now it’s back in a bob, albeit without the fringe. She’s still useless at it though, and, yes, I’ve been the Dickensian villainess — many times. I’ve even threatened to use the clippers – she can have a haircut like Dad’s if she won’t do it.
The problems with threats is that at some point they’ll call your bluff and you’ll have to do it!
I still don’t like having my hair played with, it’s a left over from Mum brushing my hair when I was a kid. I had thick wavy hair. Not conducive to good brushing.
For Amy, I am quite lucky. While her hair is thick, it is quite sleek and straight and doesn’t knot easily. Because she is still so little I use distraction while I brush her hair.
hmmm, this is a good question. I used to tell the girls a story of my own childhood, where my mother got sick of me crying out when she did my hair. It was long, at a time when long was really cool. Anyway, she threatened to cut it off if I said ouch one more time (she was quite rough, in my opinion). Of course I couldn’t hold my tongue and we went to the hairdressers that afternoon and she had it cut short.
I was devastated. The girls have taken this story to heart, I think and have been quite good about me brushing it. Of course, I think I am alot more gentle than mum was (the girls might beg to differ though!).
Now that they are older, they do a brush through first. We came to that decision because they were crying about my brushing the knots out, so I suggested if they didn’t like it then for them to do something about it!
Having said all that, ours is not a perfect princess world either where everyone dances around with smiles on their faces while beautiful mothers stroke golden combs through silken hair.
Some day are exactly as you describe them. Especially when we are running late!
As a child, I was responsible for doing my little sister’s hair. It was thick, lustrous, caramel-coloured, waist-length. My own is nearly black, fine and glassy, which I hated in the 1980s, decade of the blonde perm. So I loved getting my hands on Lucy’s hair, but she was not as enthusiastic. The solution? Spray on leave-in conditioner. Gently, gently, work your way through the knots with a very wide-toothed comb, starting from the tips, working gradually towards the roots. If it’s really thick, pin up the top part while you work on the layer underneath. Never, ever let it dry rough, without detangling first. And only ever use an actual hairbrush after you are sure there are no knots left. It takes a while, but probably less time than chasing her around the house with the clippers overall.
No proven tips have I got to provide, maybe a story to sympathise with: -
Rocking up to preschool late last week, after brushing my daughters hair 3 times with all manner of ‘miracle’ hair cures to tame and control.
We took her hat off and OMG the shame!!! Their we bits heading in all directions and looking as fine and shaggy as ever. The other mothers looked and I could read their reactions on their face, although they were too polite to say aloud and I was ready to burst out in tears on the spot.
At this stage, I am hoping that in another 12 months time we have learnt to control it before big school. In the meantime we continue to cut, condition and say silent prayers that at least she has a smile on her face and her clothes are clean!
My youngest has been blessed with GREAT hair and to brush hers, I only have to threaten to brush her older sisters first!
I was pretty much going to say what Stella did – sound advice. One of my two is prone to more knots because her hair is quite curly. She’s pretty good with brushing though (not like her sister whose pain receptors send messages to her voice box before the brush gets within 6 inches) . I’d also suggest ensuring that it’s brushed before bed and maybe even plaiting it so the knots don’t get bigger during the night.
I am back! I tagged you for a meme.
Spray in conditioner?!!? Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll just call it ‘magic spray’ and I’m sure she’ll be hooked!
Tiffany – that is sure one unfortunate story! It’d leave a lasting effect on me too!
Hate to think how much spray in conditioner I’ve gone through, particularly on youngest. Hope it’s more of a magic spray than it was for us – still never solved the easily knotted long hair problem – particularly since I’m too disorganised to be on top of combing it as often as I should. I have no patience to do my own hair (it’s short) so I have none whatsoever to do the girls’ hair. I really should have had boys!
My daughter has very thick, very curly, knotty hair and a sensitive scalp. We got this stuff from Just Cuts called Smooth and Grume…their spelling, not mine!! and it works wonders. We *were* using the spray in conditioner, but this other product is heaps better. The knots just fall out and it has transformed the mornings from a nightmare of screaming and crying, into pleasant interludes of mother and daughter time. Love Love Love Love smooth and grume (no, I don’t work for Just Cuts)
Mine both had short hair when they were smaller, but now my 12yo has grown hers and although she is quite willing to let me tie it up for her for school each day, the shrieks and groans as I brush through the knots drive me scatty! The joys of mothering girls…….
I’m afraid I approach my DD’s hair about the same as you do – issuing threats about cutting it off.
Not every time – but quite a lot of the time.
A few things I have found helpful:
* small amount of conditioner mixed with water in a spray bottle OR just rub a bit of conditioner over my hands and through her hair before I start.
* an awesome paddle brush that I bought through Avon (was pretty cheap too). She always prefers me to use that brush.
* combing it when it’s dripping wet – the knots seem to slide out better.
* starting at the bottom and working up (sorry if that’s too obvious – wasn’t obvious to my DH lol).
* plaiting it on windy days and swimming days etc when it’s liable to get knotty often.
Even with all of the above – we still have our bad days. *sigh* Guess it’s the payoff for getting to put all those cute little hair ties, ribbons and clips in.
Can you tell I like having a little girl?
Enjoying your blog muchly.
My two girls have extremly long and thick wavy hair. Julia, the oldest now 8, her hair is down to her butt. Victorias isn’t that far behind.
I use a good detangling spray, Johnson and Johnson or Sauve for kids are great. The get some of the tangles out, and don’t leave the hair gross feeling.
Then I simply force them to sit and let me do it. When they were tiny, and would put the hair up, and do all kinds of crazy things, they don’t like that anymore, but they will allow me to do it.
Sometimes forcing is the only way. Especially on morning they need to be at school.
My middle daughter’s hair gets really knotty, but is so beautiful when I brush it. We were watching a kids’ show one day where the mom didn’t do anything, stayed in her bath robe, didn’t brush her hair, etc. She ended up having a bird’s nest built in the back of her hair. The lesson was not to be lazy. But I turned it into, “You see what happens when you don’t brush your hair? The birds will come and make nests in it.” I say this whenever she tries to run away from the instrument of torture. It works, but she still yells, “OUCH” the whole time.
What – you mean the “who screams the loudest in the morning” match?
I once smashed a hairbrush against a doorframe while throwing a tantrum about having to do ‘Salina’s hair.
Ah yes, the moments when we have to remind ourselves who are the grown ups…
Short hair until that magic moment when she took on the task herself (or would “allow” me to).
Of course, several months of headlice combing also builds a special bond between mothers and daughters and hair management.
Our 4 year old has thick, thick hair that stylists fawn over. When she was two it was thick, curly, and down her back. She has HAIR. She also has hair she won’t let me touch without a huge fight. So we cut it and because she’s daddy’s girl—he usually brushes it. Works like a charm!