A True Measure of Beauty

I’ve never been a “hair” person. In fact, I’ve pretty much had the same hair style since about sixth grade (straight with varying degrees of lengths). I just don’t have the time, skill or patience to regularly style my hair (and I consider myself lucky that I even get to wash it most days). Having said that, I LOVE to get my hair cut. Not because of the “pampering” but because for that day my hair actually looks styled (never to be duplicated again despite my best efforts).

Today was one of those days. Getting my hair cut is no big deal, but being away from home for a couple hours without children is quite a logistical production, requiring weeks of planning in advance and coordinating for child care. When the “big day” arrives, the pressure to return home looking magically more beautiful than before is very high. My biggest critic, however, is NOT my husband (he’s a guy, it all looks the same to him)…it’s my kids! Garrett, in particular, has always been my more fashion-conscious child. He notices if I am wearing new clothes or do my make up differently. And he LOVES to style my hair. Just picture a four year old, freckles on his button nose, big blue eyes looking up at you, tongue resting in the corner of his mouth, sticky little hands in your face “fixing” your hair, concentrating intensely to get the style JUST RIGHT. This is Garrett. He takes his own hair just as seriously, combing it forward after he showers to tame his flyaways and even cutting off his cowlick to rid himself of “bedhead”.

Like most children his age, Garrett is also brutally honest. So, you can imagine how relieved I was to be greeted by an excited little voice proclaiming “Mommy, your hair looks beautiful!” Since it’s the same haircut I always get (except that this time she curled it a little more than usual), I smiled politely, said “thank you” with the same enthusiasm and silently wrote his excitement off as coaching from the grandparents who were watching him in my absence. But THEN, a while later he came to me with a handful of melted M&Ms (all my favorite color), placed these coveted prizes in my hand and ever so sweetly and sincerely said, “because your hair is so pretty I almost didn’t recognize you”. I know he meant that as a compliment. And later still, after I inevitably pulled back my hair into my “mom” pony tail as I got back to “work” Garrett actually pulled the rubber band out of my hair and said with disappointment “Mommy, what happened to your pretty hair?” At that point I promised him I would curl it again some time and make it pretty just for him. For that moment I realized that HE was proud of ME and what a wonderful, fulfilling gift he was giving me, which, of course, makes ME so proud of HIM. AND he really loves my hair…NOW I feel truly beautiful.