Annalise agreed to be my model for an afternoon a couple of Saturdays ago. We made a special day out of it by going to the salon and getting a snack together before hitting the beach. I've been struck recently by how fast time seems to fly by and I wanted to capture my little girl while I still had one.
Yes, my girl is growing up and showing me every day that she can take care of herself. About a month ago, she found herself in a bind. She was very brave about it and she took matters into her own hands. She had a ponytail in her hair that she wanted to take out, but when she wound up with some tangles in the rubber band that were hurting her, she realized she was stuck. She thought through what I would do if I were helping her and she remembered me using scissors from time to time to cut out stubborn rubber bands. She got the scissors that I had used and she cut the ponytail out. As far as she was concerned, the problem was solved.
Along the day, John and I found clumps of hair laying all around the house in odd places. We were calm at first but after the 7th or 8th clump was found, one hidden in her art supplies, we left a message with the triage nurse at the doctor's office on a Friday evening. We braced ourselves for terrible news about a rare disease. I got out the brush. John asked me not to do it, with a genuine fear in his eye, but I held my breath and combed carefully through her hair prepared for it all to fall out in my hands.
As I brushed, I noticed a distinct pattern to the clumping. All pieces on the floor seemed to be of the same length and when I looked closer, they seemed to be coming from one section of her head. I put the brush down, snuggled her close, and promised that she would not be in trouble if she had cut her hair but I told her that I needed to know. She tearfully fessed up to what had happened. When the nurse called back, we told her the good news, and she giggled and said, "Poor little girl!"
She's healthy and I am reminded again how lucky I am. I hug her more than ever now. We did, however, have a fashion issue to solve. When we took her to the salon, we were told that the only thing they could do was to give her bangs. We agreed but when they were cut, Annalise took one look in the mirror and looked right at us and said, "I look Horrible!!!!" The stylist thought she was just being cute, but it was genuine disgust coming out of my daughter with that sentence. I promised her that she looked beautiful but she wasn't ready to believe me. Yet.
It's taken some time, and while she still hates her bangs, she believes me that they'll grow back. She's promised not to cut her hair again, and she is content with pushing the bangs to the side for now. My joy is seeing her keep her confidence and poise, not letting the trivial things bother her, and watching her patiently grow them out! It's a good story to have so early because I can't find a woman out there who has not cut her own bangs (and regretted it!). I consider her lucky because at 6 years old, my little one has already experienced and recovered from this traumatic rite of passage.
