I have just realized that one day I may be one of those people that Oprah uses in her television show when addressing people that hoard, collect, and refuse to throw out their personal items. My closet has a couple skirts I wore in high school, my mail is piled in the office, and I have boxes from wedding presents stored in the basement just in case. In the trunk of my car, I have books from my early teaching days, mix tapes from high school, running shoes from college, and a plethora of coffee mugs from various points of my life--some with coffee still embedded. It seems, however, that the fates have aligned and are forcing me to edit myself somehow. It all began when my good friend came to visit.
While happily playing with little Soph, she noticed some hair that was longer in the back of her head. Upon further inspection, she noticed it looked like a mullet, ahh the business in the front party in the back variety, or even a little rat tail, which actually reminds me of hellish middle school years in the 90's. Anyways, it is longer than the rest of her hair and is beginning to stand out in a strange way. To be honest, I have noticed it too. I look at it lovingly as I give her a bath, and the hair spills down lower with the water. I see it when she wakes up from a nap, and the extra hair in the back sticks out from its contact with the sheet. I brush it some times and think about how dark it used to be when she was just born. But she is older now, and my very stylish friend is truly advocating for little S. Do I want to be the kind of mother that lets her daughter have a mullet? The answer is no, but there is something that still is holding me back. I can't cut it yet. I look at her clap her hands with new pride or wiggle around on the ground with her back side held high, and I can't believe how fast she has come into her own, finding her way through the world, trying to figure things out with her thoughtful eyes and inquisitive nature. And I love her little long baby hairs that wave at me from the back, dangling down her little neck, recounting the days when we first met.
Tonight I gave her a bath, sang some songs, and brushed her hair, tucking the little long hairs back with the comb. She fell asleep on her own, didn't need rocking, hair underneath but still there, tucked in safe and sound.
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2 comments:
C'mon aren't you going to post a mullet photo for posterity?
After much thought, I've come to the conclusion that maybe Sophia is a business-in-the-front-party-in-the-back kinda gal. Read on for more details...
http://myhamartia.blogspot.com/2008/08/finding-your-hamartia-in-mullet.html
I know what you mean about the hoarding. I'm not a big hoarder of "things"...actually, I prefer throwing stuff away! But if it were possible to hoard moments in time, I'd be sitting next to you on Oprah's stage.
I looked at Grace this morning sleeping--at her perfectly smooth face and arms thrown up over her head--and I wanted to put that moment in my pocket...save it for later when I can't quite remember what it was like when she was small (since the sleep deprivation is likely to make this time in our lives a blur!). If it were possible, I can see my pockets becoming overwhelmed very quickly!
Oh well, I guess that's why we have cameras.
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