People tell you that the first year of your baby’s life flies by. It does. Like a merry-go-round moving at warp speed. It’s just a blur of lights and sounds and emotions.
One thing I very much wanted to remember was the way his hair began to grow in. When he first came out, he had that wonderful, downy, peach fuzz that brand new babies arrive in. It was very fine and a very pale white color. It was all over his arms and back. I loved it. He reminded me of a baby swan covered in down. He had very little hair to speak of, but one little tuft of it stuck out from the curved back of his skull. It had a reddish tint to it that surprised me. It made him look rather like a tiny little duckling- the same way their tails sort of perk up in the back.
Later, as it began to fill in, it evolved into a funny sort of mullet, thick in the back and non existent on top. Later still, it evolved into funny little wings, which I couldn’t help but trim- they were so odd!
By about six months he had a full head of hair that all swirled out from one perfect colic (or is it cow lick?) on the back of his head and it seemed to part magically on the left and lie smoothly against his skull. It was now strawberry blonde and he reminded me of a very preppy, very square, conservative banker. It always looked freshly combed, probably because I was always stroking it that way, and he wasn’t that mobile yet.
As he got bigger, and more curious and able to explore, lots of things started to get lodged in the hair. Like baby food. Dirt. Dust bunnies. Sweat. Sand. It sometimes stood up in funny ways. He liked having it combed or brushed and liked to take turns trying to do it himself. (It was quite sweet, because he couldn’t quite work out how to hold the comb with the tines touching his head, so it mostly just stroked his cheek uselessly.)
Now that we’re in Hawaii, I’m quite firm about making him wear his hat whenever we’re outside, which is often. He despises this rule, tugging the hat off at every opportunity. Underneath the hat, his scalp get sweaty, and when he does pull it off, his hair is all plastered down on his head in damp patches, with the middle part flung up in an exasperated twist. It’s marvelous.