As I brush her hair, I notice it’s getting longer. So are her legs, and arms, and feet. How did age 8 seem so grown up all of a sudden? I use extra hair detangler spray to avoid the tears and the “mom you’re hurting me” yelps. Instead, I see her shoulders relax as I brush through her damp hair. A purple towel lays over her shoulders and she pulls it in close like a blanket. She starts talking to me about her day, and all the fun things she learned and did with her friends at lunch time. She shares about which musical instrument she would like to play next year when she enters the fourth grade.
Clarinet, she says matter of fact. I want to play the clarinet. She explains further that you can play low notes with that instrument, as well as high, where with a flute, you can only play high notes.
That’s my girl. Never liking to be tied down or without freedom to express herself, even with her future musical aspirations.
It’s amazing how a simple act of brushing your little girl’s hair can bond a mother and daughter.
I truly believe her love language is time spent with her and words of affirmation. Sharing and exchanging of words is extremely valuable to my daughter.
I will try to remember to do this more often. To take advantage of each special moment like this with her, sharing.
Soon I’ll be brushing her hair while she’s hooking a pearl necklace around her neck on her wedding day. I can picture her reflection in the mirror looking back at me, thanking me with her eyes for all the years of not perfect, but intentional moments well spent.
I want to cherish each moment I get to do the simple things, like brushing her hair, which I’ll look back and realize were the big things.
One Day I’ll Realize They Were The Big Things http://t.co/LB01X91FRg
— Traci Little (@TraciMLittle) January 23, 2015
