Willa's hair has finally grown out long enough to hold a barrette. Never mind that it's the single smallest barrette on the market IT'S A BARRETTE AND IT'S IN HER HAIR. I have been waiting quite a while for this moment. While I'll admit to sticking the occasional toddler hair accessory on Lowell's head it was always a furtive and almost desperate act. He looked so cute with them on but it was a cuteness that dared not speak its name. When I found out I was having a girl almost immediately I was having pigtail fantasies. I can't explain this, but I know some of you out there are nodding your heads. You get it. You understand that there is probably an entire branch of evolution devoted to little girls with barrettes in their hair. Like a panda's thumb. Part of me feels bad for even making a big deal out of this. My feminist super-ego is a bit disappointed that I'm so invested in the accoutrements of the patriarchy. But I am truly helpless. So even after understanding all of this about myself I was still blown away by the way a tiny little piece of metal and plastic in Willa's hair made me feel. She looked up at me after I snapped it into place and smiled and my heart melted into a small, red pool.
I couldn't wait for Matthew to get home. I didn't mention the barrette when we talked on the phone that day because I wanted it to be a surprise. When he walked in the door and saw her he looked up at me and there were tears in his eyes. TEARS. I can't explain the joy but it was abundant and sweet.