My Curly Girl

I knew when I decided to adopt an Ethiopian child that the hair thing would be a learning curve for me. I have fine, straight, uncooperative hair that defies most attempts at styling beyond consenting to be dried, so the prospect of learning how to properly care for and style Ellie's head full of curls was a little intimidating. She didn't have much hair to worry about when she first came home, so we pretty much stuck to a routine of wash-condition-moisturize-headband and let her curls do what they wanted to. With the exception of the occasional ponytails, we haven't strayed much from that - the headbands help frame her fabulous curls as they grow longer (and taller) and she likes matching them to her outfits for school. Recently the ends had gotten really dry and prone to tangles (leading to tears and drama most mornings), so last week off to the beauty salon we went for a trim.

Our day before picture:

Ellie was such a good girl - in addition to everyone commenting on what "good curl structure" she had, everyone commented on how well-behaved she was since she sat perfectly still and didn't say a word the whole time. I smiled and nodded and wondered if she was undergoing some kind of emotional trauma causing her to withdraw (this is what all that adoption training does to your brain.) In reality, she was having a fine time. She got her hair washed in the "special chair" and then sat under the bonnet dryer for a while for a deep conditioning treatment. Chocolate milk and the Wonder Pets on my phone made the time fly by.


After drying her hair, the stylist trimmed it a little (a lot less than I expected) and then used the blow dryer and a tiny flat iron to straighten it out and style it. Here was the end result:

Is it just me or does she look like Michelle Obama?


Here's Michelle Obama with a bow.


And here's what Michelle Obama hair looks like in the morning when she won't stop playing with it and refuses to sleep in a scarf:

We aren't giving up the headbands yet.