This morning, Abby had a hair bubble. You know, the kind that when you pull your ponytail back in a rubber band (or elastic, you choose) and it kind of bubbles. I mentioned it to her, and, exasperated, she said, "Can you do it?"
When I want to blow her hair, and she groans, I remind her that I would give ANYTHING to have someone blow dry my hair every day. She stops, but I relish the times right now when she WILL let me touch her hair, because I know that time is short. And I will take advantage of it now.
She brought a brush to me, and I brushed her beautiful naturally highlighted hair carefully as to get all the "bubbles" out. Do you know one time someone asked me if I highlighted my 5 year old daughter's hair? Um. No. I put the elastic in. . . a little (A LOT) higher that she normally does. She likes it at the nape of her neck. I wasn't really paying attention. Just doing it like I would normally do. When she walked into the bathroom to look at it, I admired my handy-work. It was cute. It bounced. It looked cheer-leader-esque. I liked it.
She returned from the bathroom a few minutes later.
Her hair was pulled back, to the nape of her neck. I smiled, and laughed out loud. "Ha!" You didn't like it! She said, "it was like clear up here!" Pointing to the very top of her head. I smiled, and laughed in my head. I am grateful. Very very grateful. Her look is plain, and not overstated. It is her, and that is okay with me. I hope it always is.
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After I dropped Abby off at school Wade insisted he wants a smoothie at Costco. Peter did my Costco run yesterday, and I informed Wade that we would not be going to Costco. He said, "But you are a GOOD mommy!" Inferring that good mommies do exactly as demanding 4 year olds want. I must admit. Guilty as charged.
He then told me he didn't like my hair. It was messy, uncombed, and up. In a pony tail.
He said, "Your hair doesn't look pretty". I didn't object.
A short time later, I got out of the shower. My hair was wet, but combed, and down. I walked into the living room and Wade said, "Your hair looks pretty, mom."
Who knew kids would develop their likes of hair so early?