The other night Julia was washing her hair.
“I got it, Mama. I can do it by myself.”
I was hesitant, but poured the shampoo in her hands and let her slowly apply it to her hair. I did a quick scrub to make sure it was evenly dispersed.
“Okay, time to rinse. Lean your head back.”
“I have my own way. I can do it.”
“Just lean your head back.”
“Mama, I have my own way. I can do it.”
And there she went, with her own rinsing method. And I had to restrain my hands. They kept trying to jump in to action.
“See, I start with rinsing out the back.”
That’s not how I do it. Stay down, hands. Let her do it.
Using her own rinsing method that is completely different than mine, she successfully rinsed out her hair. It’s a little moment, but it was big to me.
As I sit here reflecting and listening to the playlist my sweet husband made for me, the tears roll down my face. Our family has fought so hard to be where we are today. We aren’t fighting anymore.
As I end this, the perfect song comes on. I put on my best June Cash voice and sing, “If you were a carpenter, and I were a lady, I’d marry you anyway. I’d have your baaaabyyy.”
Time to wake up the tiny one and get the day going.