A Journey Through Hair Styling Woes: A Mom’s Adventure with Her Daughter’s Tresses

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For the first year of my daughter’s life, I reveled in adorning her head with stylish accessories. From vibrant stretchy headbands to oversized floral clips, and my absolute favorite—a chic red satin ribbon that made her look just like a tiny Snow White—it was a joy. Once we grew tired of headbands, we ventured into the realm of hats. Honestly, is there anything cuter than a baby in a hat?

But then, her hair started to grow.

Initially, this was a delightful new phase. We embraced petite toddler pigtails, and I felt confident in my styling abilities. That is until preschool arrived, and I faced a harsh reality: I’m terrible at styling hair.

I should have seen it coming. I grew up in the era of mall hair, yet I was the lone girl in my school sporting a limp, lifeless hairstyle. While my peers flaunted gravity-defying bangs, mine lazily drooped to one side. I had zero interest in curling irons, the sticky Dippity-do, or any spritz that smelled of grape and turned hair into a plastic-like mass. My mom insisted on a spiral perm that I detested, and since then, I’ve kept my hairstyles limited to two: long and straight or a bob—also straight. According to every beauty magazine ever, I’ve also been blow-drying my hair incorrectly all these years, as I didn’t even know what the “ends” were, confusing them with the roots. So I gave up blow-drying entirely, which is why I often look like Samara from The Ring.

By the time my daughter turned three and her hair had transformed into a full mane, she looked like she belonged in a cave. Picture every depiction of prehistoric children, and that was my reality. I frequently had to assure onlookers that my daughter wasn’t raised by wolves, and no, I didn’t intend to crawl out of any TVs to haunt anyone.

When it comes to hair, I’m clueless. I can’t operate a round brush without needing scissors to free it from my scalp. Don’t even mention hot rollers, salt spray, or dry shampoo; those terms might as well be in a different language for me. The only hair-related skill I possess is removing gum (tip: use oil, you’re welcome).

Then one day, a fellow mom suggested I try some detangler, and this small piece of advice changed everything. It felt like a monumental victory! That was until my then-four-year-old came home requesting “beachy waves.” Even more alarming? She knew how to pronounce “ombre” correctly. Things spiraled from there, as she soon began asking for fishtail braids, mermaid hair, and something called a “waterfall twist.”

“Mommy, can you give me a topknot with a bow made from my own hair?” she requested.

If you’re wondering where she picked up this lingo, the answer lies in YouTube and the other kids in her class—who, astonishingly, are obsessed with braiding tutorials. These children can barely color inside the lines, yet they distinguish between Dutch and French braids, both of which remain elusive to me. I’m making progress, albeit slowly.

I genuinely want to learn this for my daughter, not just to bring her joy but also to ensure she looks back on her childhood photos with fondness rather than horror, reminiscent of my regrettable spiral perm from 1989. I’m determined to redeem myself and embrace the challenge of hairstyling.

I’m proud to report that I can now successfully create a sock bun thanks to one of those As Seen on TV Hot Buns gadgets. It works! My collection of hair products now rivals what I’ve owned in my entire life. I’m still figuring out how to use them all.

Each morning is filled with practice. My daughter willingly becomes my little guinea pig, and we share laughs as I attempt to braid, twist, and clip. She tells me what she envisions, and I do my best. While my attempts often result in messy, tangled styles that fall apart within minutes, I persist! I continue to study tutorials.

Just yesterday, she asked for a crown of braids encircling her head. “Settle down, Milk Maid of the Alps,” I joked, but I gave it a shot anyway. She ended up looking more like a frantic Frida Kahlo than Heidi, but if she thought it was beautiful, that’s all that truly matters, right?

Progress is slow, but it’s happening. Realistically, my daughter and I might not become Instagram hair influencers, but this journey is about bonding with her, learning something new, and demonstrating that practice leads to improvement. Okay, maybe not perfection, but perhaps one day I’ll be able to create a decent side ponytail fishtail.

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In summary, every mom faces challenges, whether it’s mastering hair styling or navigating the ups and downs of parenting. This journey is about growth, understanding, and cherishing those moments with our children.