Friday, September 14, 2012

Pony Tail Tears

This morning, I combed my little girl's hair into a pony tail while getting her dressed. I've never done this before. For one thing, Lydia has always hated having things in her hair. Even when she was an infant, we couldn't get her to wear those adorable, stretchy headbands. But the other day, when I picked her up from Nana's house, she was wearing a ponytail! It was so cute! So this morning, while getting her ready, I tried my hand at putting her hair up. 

And I broke down in tears.

For a couple reasons.

First, this small, maternal responsibility brought to the surface a bundle of insecurities and inadequate feelings. During my elementary and middle school years, when girls are most likely to sit around "doing" each other's hair, I had no friends to practice on. This morning may have been the first time I've put a ponytail into another person's hair. I felt so inept.

Second, the ponytail was further evidence that my daughter is a little girl and not a baby anymore. I've known this for a while, but somehow it was just so real when she looked at me with her mess of curls smoothed back into the rubber band and actually looking half-way decent. 

I guess there are a couple lessons I can learn from this (maybe that's a stretch), but I did discover that if I'm willing to do things as a mom that I feel unqualified for, the results can end up better than I even hoped. Her ponytailed hair looked much better than her mop-top does on any given day and when I walked her out of the house, I actually felt pride as a mom. Yeah, she's growing up, but look what I can do! I can get a child dressed and out of the house who doesn't look like she spent the night on her own in an alley! Yay, me!

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