love motherhood parenthood

Shining, Gleaming, Streaming, Flaxen, Waxen

If you have a baby, or know anyone who has a baby, then you know its pretty difficult to get out of the house.  If you don’t know, I’m telling you now!  Its hard!  It requires a lot of organization that I don’t necessarily have.  If we’re running late for anything, I’ve started referring to it as being on “baby time”.

Now that we’ve had almost 10 weeks of practice with our little one, we have managed to frequent a few local spots with some regularity.  Willow is usually her alert, observant self.  People always seem to notice little babies and of course we’ve started getting compliments left and right on our little girl.  I mean, she is pretty cute.

Enjoying lunch at The Double Windsor.

But the comment we get more than any other is about her HAIR.

Look at all that hair!

The first thing I learned about my daughter’s appearance was from my obstetrician as she was delivering Willow:  “She has so much hair!”

One day old.

I love her hair.  I love how soft it is.  I love how it smells.  I love the perfect little spiral on the back of her head.  I love how fluffy it is right after I’ve washed it.  I love how much longer its gotten since she was born.


For the first few weeks of her life, Willow looked 100% Macy.  I had a hunch all along that would be the case.  There had to be some of me in there, though!  Tom and his sisters were born with hair but babies in my family are born with a LOT of hair.  Those locks are 100% Condon.  (Or maybe I should say Cook/Condon…she is one eighth Italian, after all.)

Unfortunately, she has also inherited her mother’s oily tendencies, so I’ve been giving her baths much more frequently than I thought I would.

There’s one thing I find disappointing.  She’s totally going to be a blonde.

I shouldn’t be surprised, right?  After all, my husband is a legitimately blonde adult.  So is my sister-in-law Dinah.  Everyone in Tom’s family was, at one time, platinum blonde.  Even my own father looked liked Goldilocks when he was little.  (Seriously.  I wish I had the picture so I could post it.)  But still, after the joy of realizing that Willow’s eyes are decidedly blue, I hoped that she would be a brunette like her mama.  Or even better, a redhead like her great-grandma!  But no.  Her hair has lightened so much already and those roots are coming in blonde!

Yes, this is totally silly.  I know that.  These are the things that come up when you’re at home all day having one-sided conversations with a miniature person.  Its very possible that Willow will grow to be a brunette adult.

I didn’t realize how much it meant to have my daughter look like me until my daughter started to look like me.  There are still days I gaze at her and have a hard time believing that she’s mine.  She’s half me!  A few weeks ago I sent my parents a picture of her smiling.  The next time I saw them, they brought it up:  “She looks like a Condon!”  I’d already compared pictures of her to baby pictures of me, so I started looking at pictures of my cousin’s kids.  Sure enough, I saw a resemblance – especially around the eyes.  I love it!

Don’t get me wrong, I love the Macy part of her too.  I’ve seen plenty of pictures of Tom as a baby (adorable), and there are times I look at Willow from a certain angle and the resemblance to Tom is uncanny.  That makes me so happy.  It’s a dimension of love that I don’t think could have existed between us before we had a baby.

Who knew?

So much love!   And so much hair.

One Response

  1. Mrs. Moore May 6, 2013

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