Not once in my life has anyone told me I have great hair.
But Lilly, my 2 and a half year old, hears it all the time.
And it's true; she does.
All our kids have had great hair.
James came out of the womb with his hair in a perfect pompadour, styled just like his Daddy's.
It grew so fast and so thick that he had his first real hair cut when he was 8 months old.
He sat on Aaron's lap in the barber chair and got a man cut.
I took a million pictures.
William's dark hair all fell out and quickly grew in blond and curly.
I loved his curls so much I couldn't bear to cut them.
Often times when we went out he'd be buttoned up in one of the many vintage sweaters I bought at the Oxfam thrift stores in Scotland and England, with his lovely, long curls hanging to his shoulders.
Everyone thought he was a girl.
I hated cutting those curls.
Of course I saved some of them.
When I had Lil, I discovered that you don't have to cut girls' hair.
So I let it grow and grow.
It was so blond and long and beautiful, I didn't want to cut it off.
I am kind of in love with her hair.
But finally, even I had to admit she was looking rather unkept.
Those long baby hairs were wispy and thin and hung at all sorts of lengths down her back.
It was time for a trim.
After the cut was over, my sweet friend Rebecca was sweeping up Lil's hair (she cut off a lot) and said, "Greta, do want to save any of this?"
And I realized, not only had I failed to take one picture of Lil's first haircut, but I wasn't even going to remember to save some of those soft, golden strands of baby hair.
Some day her hair will be dark brown like mine and no one will believe she was a blond bombshell.
Some kind of mother I am.
Rebecca scooped some up for me and I was, slightly, redeemed.
I still have my pony tail saved from a hair cut when I was 14. It is so blond and different from my hair now that it is hard to imagine it was ever mine.
Is it weird to save hair?
But those baby hairs are a part of my babies that I will never get back.
And Lilly's hair now looks even less babyish than it did before.
She's got that sweet little flip going on.
It is so thick.
She has big girl hair now.
So I want to hang onto a little bit of her babyhood.
Just like I have hung onto her brother's baby hair.
I love watching my kids grow into their own persons, to become independent and able to do things for themselves.
But there will always be a part of me that misses the baby days.
Just like everyone says, they disappear so fast.
Here's to your first haircut Lilly.
You look beautiful.
And don't ever forget that you've got great hair.
On a different note: a word about my absence.
Aaron has been gone for the last 10 days.
Originally I thought, "I'll get lots of blogging while he's gone. I am going to have all kinds of time on my hands every evening,"
What I wasn't accounting for is how tired I'd be every night.
I didn't plan on falling asleep on the couch at 8, unable to even fold that last load of laundry.
It's hard doing this all by myself!
And I think, at 34, pregnant with my 5th child and running after 3 others, I am finally accepting my limitations.
I am just too tired to stay awake.
In the past, the fact that I only managed to clean one closet while Aaron was gone (my big project was going to have all of them cleaned by the time he came home) that I didn't write a single blog post, and that I hardly managed to keep the house clean, would have bothered me tremendously.
But I have realized that I have time to do those things later.
And that I am growing a baby,
And that it is OK to be tired.
And that it is OK not to get everything done right now.
Do you know how freeing that is?
It helps to watch my 2 year old have temper tantrums because she refuses to accept her limitations.
I realize that I don't want to be like that.
When she dresses herself, and her underwear get caught under her bum, I kindly help pull them up.
She looks at me with contempt, takes her underwear off, and puts them back on.
ALL BY HERSELF.
Oh Lord, how many times have I done that, in effect, to my own mom?
And my husband?
I am sorry for being so stubborn.
Tonight she was taking off a dress and obviously struggling with it.
I asked her if I could help her.
"No," she said sweetly, "I am helping myself."
She is so much like me it is scary.
The good news is that I am finally figuring out not to act like a 2 year old.
At least, I hope I am. (But my mom and Aaron will be able to tell you for sure and they might have a different view of things that I do.)
And now that I've gotten one blog written, the morning before Aaron gets home, I am going to resist the urge to clean a closet and go back to bed.
It's 3:30 in the morning and I can't sleep.
I can't wait to see my man!
Hoping to be back here more often now that life will be returning to normal.
But you never know.
And I am OK with that.