In the tradition of Lao babyhood, all infants have their heads shaved for the belief that it will grow lustrous and strong. (For whatever else, I don’t know) This tradition is oft suggested to newborns, which is when my mom suggested we shave Humnoy’s head. The kid still had vernix pasted on his vagina-squeezed, oblong head when #AznGrandma about busted out the buzzer. Being the overprotective and wannabe-natural boho mommy I was, I absolutely refused no matter how unfortunate his hair journey started.
Humnoy had this weird, old-man hair when he was an infant: smooth/fuzzy on top; long on the sides and back. Shit was a M E S S. It wasn’t up until he was a full-blown toddler that he grew out of the old-man look and started showing growth and, to my softness for unique hair traits, perfect little brown spirals. I knew waiting out was going to be worth it. I thought, “Oh gee golly, I’m sure glad I didn’t listen to my crazy Lao mother because look at his hair now!”
For what seems like every public outing of his life, I’ve gotten the question: “When will you cut his hair?” usually right after they are offended/surprised that the little girl they are fawning over in the shopping cart is actually my first-born son, who’s never ever had a haircut. I would answer, “Well, I don’t plan on it really, [why?]” What is it about the length of a child’s hair define who they are? Humnoy was always quick to say, “I’m a BOY!” when I’d repeat my, “Oh, HE’S [insert his age]!” I was fiercely proud that I did not ever force him to get a haircut. For what? So strangers can see “who” they’re talking to? No way. Buzz off.
There was finally a time GH and I decided that, yeah, sometimes maintaining his brown curls was more work than not. One day, he got his hair so matted that he formed a baby dreadlock. I thought, “Crap, maybe he does need a haircut” but then he took another bath and fresh, new curls appeared after the baby dread was cut off, along with all my doubt. (It is now in a Ziploc bag in our kitchen because I’m fucking crazy like that). The only other time was when we were reviewing how he’s going to prepare for preschool. I hesitated on my motherly instinct only because I know how cruel people, even preschoolers, can be. I think we decided he would get an actual haircut when he enters Pre-K 4 this coming school year.
Ironically at one month before he was to turn four years old, his eligibility age for his preschool, it was clear that it really wasn’t up to me at all. Not then, not now, not never and Humnoy and his preschool scissors made that very clear (cut) while Lanoy and I were taking our nap, the time when Humnoy should be “quietly playing” since he’s given up on home naps. Long gone are naps for him, long gone are his beautiful baby curls and long gone is all my gushiness for his own hair on his very own head. ‘His hair, his body, his choice,’ isn’t that how it goes or whatever-someshit?
When did you (or they) cut your kid’s hair?
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However, even after being here eight months and having had experiences in other Asian countries, we still end up in some situations that remind us that we have a ways to go in fitting in. Case in point…One of the ladies I’ve gotten to know quite well through work just loves our girls and has been so sweet to our family. She invited us to come over to her house one day, so we made plans to head over in the afternoon. First of all, I couldn’t get a hold of her to find her house, so had to call another friend to meet us and lead us there. We weren’t sure what to expect as far as how long we’d stay, if we’d eat or not, etc.., but thought it would be fun to get to know her family and see where she lived.
When we showed up at around 
We sat and chatted for a while, met her daughter and some other relatives. She got busy preparing some food, but like I said, we didn’t really know what to expect so we just sat back and let things happen. Eventually, she came out with some sliced apples, cucumbers and bowls of steamed rice (not sticky rice, which is the 
No one else was eating, but she kept encouraging us to eat. At 
Eventually, “snack time” ended, and the girls went off with M’s daughters to go play with the kitties and ducklings, one of the highlights of their day. Our girls have loved the interaction 
After finishing her dip shower out in the open yard, Granny (who we learned is over 100 years old!) sat nearby enjoying watching the girls play.
I sat and chatted with the other ladies until their husbands arrived back from a day at the river, bringing a bucket full of small assorted fish.
Eventually M disappeared into her kitchen again and I wasn’t sure what was going on. Just as it was getting dark, she came out with a complete Lao dinner for us and all the relatives. She had made sticky rice, bamboo shoot soup, fish stew, fried river weed, and some spicy roasted birds they picked up 
Everyone seemed relaxed and happy that we could all enjoy this meal together. The finale was a rough (to us) Lao delicacy… honey bee larvae in the comb. It had a warm, mushy texture and was a bit tough to choke down, but in the end, proved that we could really be part of the group.
The Laotian Commotion 
