When you become a parent, I think the tendency is to think of all the things your parents did that you thought were wrong and SWEAR that you will never do them. It’s like a pendulum swinging far one way, then far the other. But until you’ve been a parent for a while, you have no concept of why your parents did the things they did.

My favorite example of this is my hair. I have a lot of hair. Always have. I know it was the bane of my mother’s existence when it was her job to wash, brush and style it. And I am sure I complained a lot about how she went about it. So one day, she took me to get the Dorothy Hamill haircut, and I had boyishly short hair pretty much until I was twelve. I hated it. It was not a flattering look for me. It left me scarred. I can never have hair that short again. As much as I admire women who look gorgeous with short sleek hair styles, the thought of doing it myself gives me heart palpitations.

Fast forward about 30 years. Bridget has a lot of hair. And she complains a lot when I have to comb it or when I try to style it. I get it, Mom. I forgive you. I know now why you did it. But I can’t do it to her. If I got her a pixie cut my life would be so much happier. I just can’t.

On the flip side of that coin are the things that you do just like your parents that you are shocked to see in yourself.

One of my most vivid memories is of this awful London Fog navy blue trench coat that my parents bought me in sixth grade. Now, why they even MAKE navy blue trench coats for eleven year olds is beyond me. I fought against it. I threw a tantrum in the store. I swore I would never wear it. They bought it anyway.

I never wore it. Luckily we lived in Texas where you need a coat maybe three days a year.

I swore I’d never force clothes on Bridget just because I like them. And I didn’t really think I was doing that. She likes everything in her closet and generally is agreeable to whatever I chose for her to wear each day. But one morning she starting crying and asked why I never let her wear what she wanted to wear. That spun me around. I was stifling my baby’s creativity! So we made a deal that as long as what she wanted to wear was clean and weather appropriate, it was alright with me. I also take her shopping with me sometimes and let her pick some things out. Funny thing though, she and I still have similar tastes. I know that in a few years that won’t be the case and I’ll have to veto shirts that show too much skin and jeans that require a bikini wax to wear. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

What sorts of things did your parents do that have affected your parenting? Are you scarred in any way by a particular haircut?

And just a note…. this is not a dig at my parents, or my mom specifically. She knows of my emotional haircut baggage. We are in a place of healing now. She might still be slightly pissed off about the trench coat, though.