A Growing Girl

Stella got her first haircut last week. Since she was born with a healthy head full of spiky black hair – where did that come from? – she’s grown quite the do over the last sixteen months. It’s been fascinating watching her hair change over time, shifting from jet black to almost whitish blonde. (When she was about five months old, someone earnestly asked me if I had frosted her hair. What an interesting question. Let’s pose that to CPS, shall we?)

But all good things come to a shaggy, rat’s nest of an end. We looked at Stella on Sunday morning and realized she looked like a cross between this and this. Not exactly perty. Plus, she is currently participating in the Feisty Pacific Northwest Toddlers Brigade (FPNTB) boycott of all pony tails and barrettes. So in favor of a smoother life all around, we decided to head down to the local salon for a trim.

Stella handled it all beautifully, smiling coyly at all the hairdressers. She may have even winked at the lady next to her getting her hair foiled. What a little flirt. We walked out with an adorable little bob and a few baby curls for her keepsake box.

I am so grateful for this whole experience – a seemingly silly little milestone in our lives – because it’s made me realize a few things as Stella's Mama.

Oh, that neck. Don’t you just want to serve it up with butter and tea? Oh.

I’ve been looking at this neck for the last few days with a new perspective. Sure, it’s gorgeous and fine. But it’s also the neck that carries my baby’s head and that actually means something.

Er, what? Did she just say she didn’t know what a neck was? Who is this nut and how was she allowed to bear a child?

Seriously, hang in there with me. I know that this is a strange realization. I guess the core of it is that seeing Stella’s neck look so accomplished and beautiful already, at only sixteen months, forces me to realize she will become so much more than my little girl.

She will shake her head with that neck. She will utter laughter and cries from within that neck. She will nuzzle into a love with that neck. She will possibly cradle a child up to that neck. And she will hold her head high – with confidence and bravado – with that neck.

So you see, this gorgeous and creamy neck carries more than just her growing, precocious mind right now. It carries the wonderfully rich weight of possibility.

And I am beyond grateful to stand witness to all her possibility. Thank you, wee one. Thank you.