Mohawk Mom

I’m secretly fascinated by another mom at my kid’s preschool. I call her “Mohawk Mom” (and by that I mean I think of her as “Mohawk Mom” because I have never spoken to her or spoken to anyone else about her.)

I see her when we are picking up or dropping off our kids. Her child is older than mine- they’re not in the same class, so we’ve never had an opportunity to speak. I mean, I guess I could just chase her down in the hallway and introduce myself but it seems like that would make my interest in her become pathetically obvious.

She’s just got this look that is so unique and striking. You’ve no doubt figured out by now that her haircut is a mohawk– a tidy, short one. Her platinum blonde hair is shaved close on the sides and is about 3 or 4 inches long across the ridge of her head. She doesn’t wear it spiked up with gel like an 80’s punk rocker… at least, not when she’s dropping her little girl off at the local church preschool. (On the weekends, who knows? Maybe she’s the lead singer in a band! There are all sorts of interesting stories I can invent about her.)

She has some tattoos, but doesn’t dress overly freaky, just cute and fun. And she is always impeccably groomed. Her porcelain skin, precise black eyeliner, and matte cherry lips give her a retro 50’s vibe.

[Yes, I said she has red lips. I didn’t say she is wearing “a red lip” or “a smoky eye”. When did we start acting like people’s lips and eyes don’t come in pairs? Is it some kind of extreme political correctness where we fear that we will offend someone who only has one lip? I don’t get it.]

[Oh, gosh– if someone reading this only has one lip please don’t be offended! I wasn’t trying to discriminate against you.]

But back to Mohawk Mom. I guess I’m interested because she seems to be doing the responsible, adult, suburban mom thing while simultaneously doing the I-walk-to-the-beat-of-my-own-drum thing. Both. At the same time.

And that intrigues and fascinates me, because I want to find more people who are comfortable occupying those roles. Maybe it shouldn’t strike me as something rare, but I live in a conservative state, in a conservative neighborhood, with a conservative spouse. Maybe I just haven’t been allowing myself to look or act like a nonconformist because I assume it won’t be accepted. Maybe I need to give my state, and my neighbors, and my spouse a little more credit and believe that they’ll love me for who I am. Texas is the Lone Star State, after all. Aren’t we raised to be proud of going our own way?

You rock on, Mohawk Mom!