Senegalese what?

I've never liked doing my own hair. Probably because you can't do a thing with it. But one of the joys of being Hope's mother has been doing her hair. In the early days, since youtube was just a baby and not the wealth of information it is now, my first cornrowing instruction came from a friend who admitted she had actually never done her own hair as someone had always done it for her and from a written tutorial.

Thankfully HopeAnne was too young to see those first attempts. They were wide. Very wide.

But they got better.

And then the internet became more helpful and we found a few great sites with creative ideas and it was fun to cornrow a heart in February or a pumpkin in October.

And then she grew old enough to choose her own styles and they were decidedly less creative but it was still fun to spend this one-on-one time with her.

And then she met sweet Sarah and decided hair like Sarah would be fun. Senegalese twists? Umm, no. Looks way out of my ability range. Save your money, honey.

But then M's caseworker showed up with the same hairstyle and HopeAnne was once again intrigued and Katherine said, "Oh, Cindy, if you can cornrow, you can do this. Just look on youtube."

So I did.

And just like those first cornrows, they were passing but had a long way to go.

And then we went to the beach. Senegalese twists are not made for little girls who are going to be jumping in waves and covering in sand at the beach.

I suggested we try again after running season because, well, wouldn't the extra hair weigh you down and add seconds to your time?

She didn't care so we tried again. Different brand. Different hair. And more of it.

The first kind, made for kids, just didn't work.

Back across the river I went to try a different brand and the second time was the charm.

Still figuring out how to get them tight enough at the top and need to even out the ends but definitely better than our first round.

And 3 hours later it sure was better bonding time than going to the homecoming game to watch our high school lose. Again.