She writes a post about her hair.

Listen, I woke up last spring with a wave in my hair.

You may not understand the full gravity of this reality. So let me explain. I come from the plains. From people who have very little heritage. We don’t say: “We’re German,” the way my husband’s family does. We don’t say anything. We’re from Texas, that’s what we are. We are part Oklahoman too; we’ll give you that.

Yes, my aunt studied our ancestry once to find that that we’re from Europe. And a tiny smidgen of Cherokee. Europe, you say? Yes, Everywhere, Europe.

The dominant gene in our family is blonde fine hair and cute button noses that indicate no geographical place. Though my husband looks German (dark hair, strong nose), my genes have dominated in the baby-making department. Blonde and button it is, friends.

Yes, that is Micha circa 1988. You’re welcome.

When I was a kid my mom felt so sad about my fine (thin!) hair that she took to getting it permed as often as possible. “So it’ll have some body!” Don’t blame her. It was 1988. Of course she permed my hair.

And in the wind-whipped land of Texas’ High Plains, growing my hair out into three tangled strips was not a good idea. So we kept it short. Never longer than shoulder length.

When I met Chris he thought my hair would be lovely long. I grew it past my shoulders for our wedding and it was nice (when the wind didn’t blow). But it was fine and stringy and eventually, I cut it cute and trendy and short.

So you’ll understand that I don’t understand what’s happened to me.

It took a year after Brooksie was born to realize that at some point in the hormonal hoopla that attacked my body, my hair doubled in size. I’m serious, twice as much grew in. (That may sound shocking but understand its ponytail may now be the size of a quarter when it was once a nickel…or maybe it was a dime and now it’s a nickel. You understand.) It doesn’t feel like my hair.

Also, it’s still straight on top, but underneath, it’s a crazy mess of waves. My people don’t know what to do with something like this. I’ve never owned a straightener. (I bought one. It’s pink.) I’ve never complained about rainy/humid days. I am now, thankyouverymuch.

All those years in high school when I watched girls brush their thick monster strands in class or I jealously eyed the cute girls whose hair turned to sweet curls in the thundery afternoon. Now, I’m one of them. And I can’t go back.

Isn’t it weird how something so personally connected to us can just change? And I’m forced to change with it. Thick hair takes a lot longer to: 1) blowdry 2) straighten and 3) not put in a ponytail. None of us are used to this. (We keep being late to church because Mommy cannot stop fixing her hair.)

Why, you say, this long digression on your hair? (We don’t care, you say.)

Here’s what I’m getting at (I think): These children change us. They change our outsides and our guts. They change how we view the world and how we respond in it. They change how we sleep and how we plan our lives and our days. They change how we view movies and how we view the world.

I like the idea of children marking my body. Because once one has come from you, there is no going back. You are a mother. That’s what I’ve been thinking as I stand in front of the mirror, combing and combing that wet tangled mess. I am a mother: Of course they’ve changed me.

And everything I understand about the world has shifted. Not just once. Not just the first time I held my firstborn. It changed again with my second son. And it should.

Of course my hair should demand more of me. Giving and shaping life is sacred. It changes the very fiber (I mean that literally, don’t I?) of our selves.

  • http://www.inamirrordimly.com ed cyzewski

    It’s wonderful to celebrate change and the gifts that come with it. I was thinking the other day about how much our sleep patterns have changed, and although our child is up all of the time at night and takes short naps, there is a sweetness even in those sleep deprived moments when I’m calling out to God with simple prayers because that’s all I can muster. God is in those simple, quiet moments too–he’s not looking for my most profound prayers necessarily.

  • http://www.leannepenny.com Leanne Penny

    Yes! Nothing about me will ever be the same post-children and I love it! I am more laid back, more or a servant and more thankful for a moment’s peace than I ever was before.

    Not to mention the c-section scar.

    Also I love you for posting that picture because I had a perm with bangs too… I have a similar pic except that you had length I did, so I looked like I had a curly triangle coming off my head… sad

  • http://www.dsbutterfly.blogspot.com Nancy

    That is one fine photo, and an indication of just how much you trust us! So we will honour that trust and only really pay attention to your sweet and deep and oh-so-true words about mothering. And, for those like Ed, fathering … because even without the C-section scar, the sleepless nights are marking you!

  • http://tanyamarlow.com Tanya Marlow

    I love this.

    And as someone whose hair is wavy and thick, but has straight bits on the top, so it all tends to get in a mangled mess, I feel your pain!

    And I love your perspective on the way children change us. I was on a sunbed in foreign climes this year, looking at all the 20-something’s with their perfect 6-pack, and me there with my saggy and wrinkled belly, and you know what? I think they envied me, not me them. Their body only had cream and tan, mine had produced an angelic little toddler. I bear the marks proudly.

  • nancy martin

    Then they change you again….they move away and are not there when you need their hug because they didn’t get that job or other difficult event. your insides are the same as they were when they were born yet your outsides – the world – doesn’t let you be that gushy new mom. But – you get to evolve in new ways that are also very exciting.
    as for hair – yours was the kind as a 7th grader that i wanted lol. instead mine was what you described and after children it went from blond to brown and now black and gray and it isn’t any more managable so you see it will continue as do our lives to change – love to you and family

  • Mark Allman

    As a father I have been changed by my kids as well. Not only in ways that would be obvious and those of the heart but also physical too. My kids loved sports so I would do sports with them. My son was going into the ARMY and started to run and although I hate running I ran. My daughters wanted some nice workout videos so I bought Insanity and P90X and I did them along with them. So I am sure I am in a better place physically because of them and maybe my hair is greyer because of them too. :) Regardless I believe we are always changed by those we love if we love them as we should. We change because we love stuff they love; we do things they invest their time in and we share thoughts and feelings and joys and heartaches… continually changing one another. For this love…. to love and be loved always will change you.

    By the way I love long hair and messy hair better that all in place hair.

  • http://www.livingpalm.blogspot.com Tamara @ This Sacramental life

    (fabulous use of parentheses)

  • http://joannadobson.wordpress.com/ Joanna

    ‘These children change us. They change our outsides and our guts.’ Oh Micha – how I identify. My youngest is 18 but the change goes on.

  • Angela (Ueckert) Guilloud

    Micha, this picture is so how I remember you!!! You were always a cute girl (perm and all)!! I had the perm in those years as well….remarkable my hair ever recovered! Love your blog and your thoughtful posts… have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

  • Annette Bannister

    What a fun post! Thanks for sharing!

  • http://barefooton45th.com Lesley

    Oh, that photo! It reminds me of my 2nd-6th grade school photos when my bangs were big and my teeth were all different angles and sizes. Thank you for sharing–made me chuckle.

    I also love the other things you share about motherhood changing us. It’s so strange to feel like I knew my body really well before kids, but now I find things surprising. I always wonder–is this a phase, or is this my new normal?

  • http://www.thetaooftulips.wordpress.com Cole

    I’m peeking through now that I’ve “met” you! LOL at this- my hair has gotten curlier with each child! What I am and how I see myself changes- literally and figuratively. Oh my. Isn’t it funny that we curl it when it’s straight naturally and we straighten it when it curls naturally? There’s a lesson in there. Restoring balance, not knowing who we are? It could go either way. Some day there will be the time to ponder it. Probably as we comb out our children’s hair :) xo

    • michaboyett

      So true, right? Restoring balance…accepting who we are…yeah, there’s a lesson. Thanks for your thoughts.


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