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On Mermaid Hair and the Joys of Adulthood
If I were to jot down a few tasks I really could do without, the list would probably feature kneeling on hard floors and engaging with toys that seem to have survived an encounter with some sort of biological goo.
Recently, my beautiful daughter, with her sparkling eyes, asked me—after what felt like my sixteenth hour of wakefulness that day—if I wanted to join her in a hairstyling game while she splashed in the tub.
Honestly? No, I really didn’t want to play that game. I was feeling a bit off, to say the least. Thanks for the offer, sweetie!
The thought of lowering my aching knees onto the chilly bathroom tile and running my fingers through Mermaid Barbie’s probably germ-infested hair made me want to concoct an elaborate excuse to escape. Surely, I could find something else to do—like folding laundry, washing dishes, or even stabbing my eye with a hot poker. But sometimes, you just have to embrace the role of grown-up, no matter how unenthusiastic you feel.
I know I must let my kids down frequently, especially when I embarrass them with public kisses or refuse to let them cover their faces in temporary tattoos before family gatherings. But I don’t want to disappoint them all the time. I want them to remember me as more fun than I actually am, smarter than they recognize, and genuinely interested in their endless chatter about Minecraft or bracelet-making techniques—even if it might not be good for my sanity.
It wasn’t until I handed my kids over to my own mother that I noticed how impatient she had become with little ones. Not in a cruel way, but in a “your patience wears thin after 60 years” kind of way. I had no clue she felt this way when I was growing up. I only remember her spending hours at the library with me as I carefully selected books, expertly untangling knots from any string, and smiling as I helped her bake treats. She was always patient and encouraging, standing by like a bird, quietly observing but ready to flit off as soon as I was engaged in something.
What I didn’t understand back then was that in those quiet moments, she was likely dreaming of doing something else—anything else, really. From driving me to activities that I now realize bored her senseless to making sure every birthday and holiday was filled with gifts from my favorite characters, my mom created a treasure trove of joyful memories that she enjoyed as much as I did.
And for that, I am incredibly grateful.
So, when I looked down at my daughter that night, her little hands clutching two long-haired mermaids surrounded by bubbles I had meticulously fluffed with my “special claw technique,” I smiled and pushed aside my own impatience, exhaustion, and reluctance to say, “Of course, I’d love to, sweet girl!”
It’s why I spent the next half hour ignoring the pain in my knees to create mohawks, updos, and side ponytails by the tub. It’s also why I taught myself to French braid the messy locks of an Ariel doll with a fading eye the next morning, preparing for the next time she invites me to our special bath-time hairstyling game.
This journey of parenthood is filled with moments that can be both challenging and rewarding. If you’re interested in exploring more about home insemination and parenting, check out this article on pregnancy options. And for those looking to boost fertility, Make a Mom has some excellent resources.
Summary
Embracing the challenges and joys of parenthood is essential, even when it involves playing with toys that have seen better days. The memories we create with our children, like braiding their dolls’ hair or engaging in imaginative play, are what truly matter in the grand scheme of things.