You Look Lovely, Just Not in That.

Sorry, no more cute pics of the dog today. Instead I’m going to tell you another story about my weekend.

The short version (which is much preferable to the one I told Science Guy) is that my mom hates my new headbands. You may recall my Nexavar caused a pretty fair amount of hair loss. While I was in Portland for the marathon I found these awesome headbands called Bondi Bands.

They’re a great stretch material that stay put and they come in fun colors. More importantly they make me a little less self-conscious about my hair loss. I like them, Science Guy likes them, my girls like them, my mom doesn’t.

She tries to be tactful and instead tells me often how she likes my hats – and that my dad likes my tan one. If all else fails, play the dad card right?

I have a couple new hats that are ok but I really have never liked the way I look in them.  I decided it would be fun to make her admit it so on Saturday our conversation went something like this:

Mom: “I like they way that hat looks on you.”

Me (in my snazzy hat): “Better than my headband?”

Mom: “Well, I just like the hats better.”

Me: “You can be honest, I’ve already figured out you hate the Bondi Bands. It’s pretty obvious.”

Mom: “Well I’ve never liked headbands. Ever. Even on little girls. You girls never wore headbands. But maybe if I lost my hair I wouldn’t mind so much.”

Me: ”Yeah, I might not be wearing them either if I hadn’t lost my hair from the cancer drugs.” 

Mom: ” Have you tried it with some bangs showing?”

Me: “No, but only because my bangs fell out!”

Mom: “Well I like the hats. Have you thought about wigs?”

Me: “Can we stop at the liquor store?”

Now I know she means well but WTF? Where in the family cancer support groups do they suggest telling the self-conscious bald girl she looks like a dumbass in her latest accessory?

I think most of her discomfort comes from the fact that maybe I look a little more “cancer patient-ish” in them. In a hat I might just be cold. Or on my way to a baseball game. Or maybe she really does think I look like a dork with an overly large forehead. It’s possible. I understand either way.

That was the beauty of Gleevec, the first drug I was on. There was no hair loss. It gave us the false sense of security. As long as I had a full head of hair we could all pretend I was healthy. I didn’t have the whole head wrap thing going. I didn’t look like a cancer patient. Now maybe I do, just a little.

When I brought up a family photo on our Christmas card she suggested maybe it would be a good year to have just the girls in it because “it’s so hard to get all 5 people to look good at the same time.”

 Translation: I’m afraid you have a headband with a poinsettia or lights on it.

I do realize she’s more comfortable seeing me in the hats. Maybe it’s a coping thing, so Sunday morning as I was getting ready to go I made the decision any good daughter would make.

I put on a headband.

Annoying your mother never gets old. It’s a good thing she loves me.

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