Moms are 20 times more likely to be found at the sink than at the mirror
By Karrie McAllister
Finally some truth in advertising.
Suave has a new ad which I have taped to my bathroom mirror, only because I didn’t think tattooing it on my arm would be appropriate.
Apparently they have launched a new campaign designed to target mothers, thinking that we are an untapped resource when it comes to hair and beauty products.
Apparently they think we could all use a little help.
They don’t know how right they are.
The ad states in big bold letters, “The average mom devotes 87.9 minutes a day to meals and only 4.2 minutes to her hair.”
Well, duh.
In fact, there are quite a few of us who do both at one time, trying to shove breakfast in our mouth with one hand while we brush with the other.
Hair has always been a sensitive issue with me, only because I am forever thinking everyone else’s hair looks better than mine. Let’s call it a coiffure complex. And it stems from the fact that I honestly have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to hair.
This does not, however, stop me from trying an average 4.2 minutes a day. (I actually timed it last week and hit 4.5 minutes—maybe I needed the extra 0.3 because I was eating breakfast at the same time.)
But still I try, and although I don’t feel that I succeed, I don’t entirely fail. I am at least publicly presentable most of the time.
What is rather unfortunate, though, is that I torture my children with this inability to style.
Why is it that we parents think that, no matter how unskilled we are at hair, we can successfully cut our children’s locks? Sure, it saves a few bucks, but the humiliation they don’t know they are enduring is not worth the money.
Case in point: I spent my entire childhood with bangs that started on the left at my eyebrow, and then took a steep slope up to the top of my forehead on the right.
The curse of the crooked bangs, and you’d think I’d learn a lesson, but no. Just like millions of other unqualified parents out there, I catch myself saying those tragic words, “C’mon, kiddo, let’s just give you a little trim.”
We sit them outside, draped in a garbage bag, and use our sewing scissors to trim, trim, and then re-trim some more.
By the time we’re finished we could have practically just gotten out the clippers and preformed the old standard buzz cut.
My son, with his beautiful red hair, got his first buzz cut recently. You guessed it, outside, draped in a garbage bag, and while he thinks he can run faster with his new aerodynamic do and my husband is happy that he saved some cash, I know that he looks like a giant bald head sitting on a little body.
Such unfair things we do to our kids.
If it’s not the cutting that gets them, it’s the actual styling. There needs to be an extra chapter in parenting books telling us rookies how to do things like put clips in that won’t fall out, or how to make a ponytail on a girl who is dancing in front of the mirror. Maybe there could even be a bonus section on braids that aren’t crooked or lumpy?
I could really use something like that. It’s especially hard to get a ponytail straight when you’re the one who has been trimming and re-trimming their hair.
So maybe moms only spend 4.2 minutes (or 4.5 in my sorry case) on our own hair, but I know that I have put what seems like countless hours trying to figure out what to do with the hairs on the tiny heads that live in this house.
Poor things, with their bald heads and cock-eyed braids could really use some help. And so could their mother.
Maybe with all of the time we spend prepping meals (87.9 minutes), I could trade casseroles for cuts and soup for styles. Any takers?
Finally some truth in advertising.
Suave has a new ad which I have taped to my bathroom mirror, only because I didn’t think tattooing it on my arm would be appropriate.
Apparently they have launched a new campaign designed to target mothers, thinking that we are an untapped resource when it comes to hair and beauty products.
Apparently they think we could all use a little help.
They don’t know how right they are.
The ad states in big bold letters, “The average mom devotes 87.9 minutes a day to meals and only 4.2 minutes to her hair.”
Well, duh.
In fact, there are quite a few of us who do both at one time, trying to shove breakfast in our mouth with one hand while we brush with the other.
Hair has always been a sensitive issue with me, only because I am forever thinking everyone else’s hair looks better than mine. Let’s call it a coiffure complex. And it stems from the fact that I honestly have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to hair.
This does not, however, stop me from trying an average 4.2 minutes a day. (I actually timed it last week and hit 4.5 minutes—maybe I needed the extra 0.3 because I was eating breakfast at the same time.)
But still I try, and although I don’t feel that I succeed, I don’t entirely fail. I am at least publicly presentable most of the time.
What is rather unfortunate, though, is that I torture my children with this inability to style.
Why is it that we parents think that, no matter how unskilled we are at hair, we can successfully cut our children’s locks? Sure, it saves a few bucks, but the humiliation they don’t know they are enduring is not worth the money.
Case in point: I spent my entire childhood with bangs that started on the left at my eyebrow, and then took a steep slope up to the top of my forehead on the right.
The curse of the crooked bangs, and you’d think I’d learn a lesson, but no. Just like millions of other unqualified parents out there, I catch myself saying those tragic words, “C’mon, kiddo, let’s just give you a little trim.”
We sit them outside, draped in a garbage bag, and use our sewing scissors to trim, trim, and then re-trim some more.
By the time we’re finished we could have practically just gotten out the clippers and preformed the old standard buzz cut.
My son, with his beautiful red hair, got his first buzz cut recently. You guessed it, outside, draped in a garbage bag, and while he thinks he can run faster with his new aerodynamic do and my husband is happy that he saved some cash, I know that he looks like a giant bald head sitting on a little body.
Such unfair things we do to our kids.
If it’s not the cutting that gets them, it’s the actual styling. There needs to be an extra chapter in parenting books telling us rookies how to do things like put clips in that won’t fall out, or how to make a ponytail on a girl who is dancing in front of the mirror. Maybe there could even be a bonus section on braids that aren’t crooked or lumpy?
I could really use something like that. It’s especially hard to get a ponytail straight when you’re the one who has been trimming and re-trimming their hair.
So maybe moms only spend 4.2 minutes (or 4.5 in my sorry case) on our own hair, but I know that I have put what seems like countless hours trying to figure out what to do with the hairs on the tiny heads that live in this house.
Poor things, with their bald heads and cock-eyed braids could really use some help. And so could their mother.
Maybe with all of the time we spend prepping meals (87.9 minutes), I could trade casseroles for cuts and soup for styles. Any takers?
Comments