As a change of pace I tried to “do” my hair this morning, that is to say, I did a little more than brush it, but not quite so much as to include curling irons or straighteners in the process. This is rare, and I wanted to enjoy the result for slightly more than 10 minutes.
This is where I get stuck in a catch-22 situation. To keep the hair “done”, I really need to get away from my kids, which happens most regularly on a work day, but on work days, I am rushing so much in the mornings to hit the snooze button three or four times and then to dress myself and the kids in about 5 minutes and 32 seconds that I have no time to do my hair. Luckily Hubby handles the kid’s breakfasts otherwise we just wouldn’t make it.
So this morning–Saturday morning–I foolishly did my hair. Squishy is out of sorts today, and when she is feeling under the weather her favourite activity is to curl up on my lap, suck her thumb, and twirl my hair.
I left the bathroom after doing my hair and ran into Squishy with her arms stretched toward me calling “Mamie”, at least that is how it sounds coming out of her French speaking little mouth. I promptly picked her up, and she started for the standard, head on my shoulder, one hand in her mouth, the other hand on my hair pose, but I stopped her hand. She raised her head instantly and stared at me with her big brown eyes as if to say, “What the what?”
I gave her a kiss on her nose and rubbed her back. She continued to look at me with untrusting eyes and slowly began to put her head back onto my shoulder. When her hand started to reach up to my hair a second time, I held her hand in mine and started rubbing it. Her head shot up again, but the look was totally different this time. Her eyes were already full of those huge crocodile tears she is able to conjure at will, and her bottom lip was quivering. After meeting my eyes, she then let out a sorrowful scream as if to say, “Why don’t you love me anymore?”
I held out for all of three minutes and then decided it was more important that my daughter feel love. So now, while I am sitting on the couch with Squishy curled on my lap and no longer playing with my now disheveled hair, I realize that I have just lost a battle of stubbornness, again.