It Really Does Take a Village
Yesterday when I was getting ready for bed after a chaotic day in San Jose (long story for later) I started thinking about the community it takes to raise children. It's not just mom and dad, it takes the help of many.
I brushed out my long dry hair, adding a large dollop of coconut oil, remembering the advice of a hair dresser to my son. He has dry Native American hair like mine, needing extra moisture to keep it from turning into a tangled mess. I used some natural cleanser on my face, remembering when my oldest daughter was recommended what I was using by a cosmetologist for her beautiful, but sensitive peaches and cream English skin. I don't have her gorgeous flawless skin, but mine is sensitive too. When I got out of the shower I used a spray made of coconut oil and cocoa butter to lock in the moisture, something recommended to my youngest daughter during an appointment with her dermatologist in her teens. She has my grandmother's extremely dry skin.
This was all information we got when I brought a child to someone expert in their field, who gave us information on how best to handle these things that I didn't know the best way to deal. It came from my village. When I was without information I knew I had to consult others. That's part of being a good parent.
Why think about this? After seeing the tangled rats nest of hair on the head of Nicole Naugler's child I could not help but think this is what happens when you deliberately isolate. When you reject the help of everyone, but you're too screwed up and exhausted to be doing what needs to happen, like overseeing the basic hygiene of a child.
That kid isn't deliberated developing beautiful dreadlocks. That is neglect, criminal neglect that likely has sores beneath it, pain from the weight of the tangled hair pulling against a sensitive scalp. Sadly enough the only real way to deal with that hot mess is to cut that kid's hair to the quick, right down to the scalp.
There's no sin in reaching out to others to help when you don't know what best to do. But there is in arrogantly ignoring the needs of your children and isolating all of you further. Those are not dreadlocks.
I brushed out my long dry hair, adding a large dollop of coconut oil, remembering the advice of a hair dresser to my son. He has dry Native American hair like mine, needing extra moisture to keep it from turning into a tangled mess. I used some natural cleanser on my face, remembering when my oldest daughter was recommended what I was using by a cosmetologist for her beautiful, but sensitive peaches and cream English skin. I don't have her gorgeous flawless skin, but mine is sensitive too. When I got out of the shower I used a spray made of coconut oil and cocoa butter to lock in the moisture, something recommended to my youngest daughter during an appointment with her dermatologist in her teens. She has my grandmother's extremely dry skin.
This was all information we got when I brought a child to someone expert in their field, who gave us information on how best to handle these things that I didn't know the best way to deal. It came from my village. When I was without information I knew I had to consult others. That's part of being a good parent.
Why think about this? After seeing the tangled rats nest of hair on the head of Nicole Naugler's child I could not help but think this is what happens when you deliberately isolate. When you reject the help of everyone, but you're too screwed up and exhausted to be doing what needs to happen, like overseeing the basic hygiene of a child.
That kid isn't deliberated developing beautiful dreadlocks. That is neglect, criminal neglect that likely has sores beneath it, pain from the weight of the tangled hair pulling against a sensitive scalp. Sadly enough the only real way to deal with that hot mess is to cut that kid's hair to the quick, right down to the scalp.
There's no sin in reaching out to others to help when you don't know what best to do. But there is in arrogantly ignoring the needs of your children and isolating all of you further. Those are not dreadlocks.
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