It was a typical Sunday morning, and I found myself in a standoff with my 9-year-old son, Oliver, over his unkempt hair. This was the one day of the week when I insisted he at least try to look presentable. Sure, I wanted him to appear neat, but I also felt strongly about him not blending in with the other boys at church, who seemed to shuffle in with disheveled hair and wrinkled shirts. It was as if making a little effort to tidy up was a monumental task they were unwilling to undertake.
As a parent, it’s especially frustrating to know just how remarkable your child is and wanting that to be reflected on the outside as well. However, the brilliance within often gets overshadowed by appearances—like when a kid shows up at church with their fly down.
The reality is that no matter when I see Oliver’s peers, they look like they’ve just rolled out of bed. Working in a medical environment, I often worry that my son might never outgrow this phase. I can easily imagine him as that atypical twenty-something student in my office, sporting a messy hairstyle and a lingering odor of snacks, oblivious to his poor social presentation.
Oliver was holed up in his room, sprawled on his bed and staring at the ceiling. I debated whether it was worth fighting this battle. Part of me wanted to fast-forward to a moment in the future when he might be interested in a girl, only to be turned down because of his wild hair. Sometimes, I play out these scenarios in my mind.
Picture Oliver chatting with an 11-year-old girl, who looks into his eyes and says, “I can’t date you; your hair is just too messy.” He’d be hurt, and I’d feel guilty for not making him care about his appearance sooner. Maybe then he’d finally invest in a good comb and some hair gel.
But the truth is, I can’t predict what will happen in the future. My concerns about his messy hair stem from my own feelings and expectations projected onto him.
I sat on the edge of his bed and said, “Hey, buddy. This isn’t that big of a deal. Just comb your hair. I only ask you to do it once a week! I’ll even grab the comb and water bottle for you.”
He dramatically waved his hands and exclaimed, “No, no, no!” in a way that reminded me of a scene from an old action movie. I began to wonder if I was being too pushy, but in reality, I was just requesting that he comb his hair.
Eventually, he gave in and rushed to the bathroom for a grand total of five seconds, emerging with a small wet patch on his head—clearly a half-hearted effort.
“Did you use a comb?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed, “I don’t see why I need to.”
Leading him back to the bathroom, I was surprised he didn’t resist. I dampened his hair and combed through the tangled mess, parting it to the side and giving him a dash of boyish charm. We looked in the mirror together, and I smiled at him. He returned my smile with a half-hearted grin, which gave me hope that I had made progress.
But just as I was about to compliment him, he reached up and rubbed his hair vigorously, pushing it forward again. While he didn’t look as nice as he had moments before, he at least looked better than he did when we began this ordeal. I sighed in resignation.
“Is combing your hair really that bad?” I asked.
He nodded and replied, “I just want to look how I want to look.”
As much as I wanted to argue about the future expectations he’d face—like dress codes and professionalism—I chose to hold my tongue. I thought about the battles we all pick as parents and hoped he’d figure it out in his own time. I hugged him tightly, unsure of what else to do.
Kids can be incredibly frustrating, often over the smallest issues—like hair grooming or eating what’s served for dinner. In the heat of the moment, it’s easy to forget that lessons aren’t typically learned in one go. They are absorbed through countless discussions and compromises. While I hoped I’d made a lasting impact, I knew that it would take time for him to understand.
“You’ll get it one day,” I said, giving him a wink. He rolled his eyes again, and we both hopped into the van to head to church.
For those interested in exploring more about parenting and self-care, check out this insightful piece on home insemination. It connects beautifully to the journey of preparing for parenthood, much like grooming our children into confident individuals. If you’re considering at-home options for insemination, the guide at Make a Mom is an excellent resource. For further insights on fertility and related topics, the CDC offers valuable information.
Summary:
Navigating the challenge of getting children to take pride in their appearance can be a frustrating experience filled with small battles. In a lighthearted account, Dr. Emily Carter recounts a Sunday morning struggle with her son, Oliver, over combing his hair. While it may seem trivial, these moments represent larger lessons in self-care and personal presentation that evolve over time. Ultimately, the hope is that children will learn to express their individuality while understanding the importance of looking presentable in social settings.