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Parenting Traps

Hair-Raising

If the president can handle his mother-in-law helping with his kids, I have no excuses left.

By Zine Magubane
March 22, 2009
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The other morning my 4-year-old, Brendan, marched into the bathroom, outraged. My mother followed closely, holding a bottle of Luster's Pink Oil Moisturizer and a comb. "Grandma is trying to do something awful to me. Make her stop." I grabbed the offending articles, pulled Brendan into the bathroom, and shut the door quickly, hoping she didn't overhear Brendan say, "But doesn't she know we don't do that, Mommy?"

The that to which he was referring is hair combing -- something he vehemently resists. Nine out of 10 mornings I give in, and he goes to preschool looking like a cross between Jimi Hendrix and Don King. How do I live with it? I lie to myself, that's how. "People will think his hair got smashed by his hat." Or "This is the suburbs; no one knows what a well-combed Afro looks like." Never mind that one of the best-groomed Afros sits in the governor's mansion and another lives in the White House -- maybe with grandma!

Because my mother knows exactly what a well-groomed Afro is, I resorted to deception. "Here Brendan, put this hat on." I silently prayed he wouldn't take it off. Even if he did, I told myself, Grandma won't notice. Didn't Dad say she was having cataract surgery soon?

Marian Robinson, Eugenia Biden, and Dorothy Rodham are all coming to Washington to help out the kids. A recent poll indicates the number of Americans 65 and older living with adult children increased 50 percent between 2000 and 2007. Having my own mother stay with me is great, except when, much like when I was 16 and wearing too much eye shadow, I practice grooming subterfuge.

I eventually found Brendan, hatless, eating breakfast. My mother said nothing. Instead, she gave me the look, and I knew. She grew up in apartheid South Africa. Every morning before she took the bus to work, she sent my three sisters to school looking impeccable from a house with no running water. I have two and a half baths and no excuse. I picked up the comb and Luster's and prepared to take my punishment like a mom.

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