We had a youth service project last night, so Adam pulled into the driveway with just enough time for Lyndsay, Dylan, and me to jump into the car for a ride down to the church. All I said to Adam was, "If you see anything of Conor's on the bathroom counter, don't touch it. I want to save it." He was completely perplexed by that set of directions, but he gave me his word. About ten minutes later, my cell phone rang, and I began to giggle. I knew just who was on the other end:
Adam: (giddy with laughter) WOW!
me: Do you like it?
Adam: He looks so handsome! I love it! Thank you.
It took him a few minutes of playing with him to notice, but when he did, he just loved it. Now he'll need to find something else to tease him about, since Bozo is out.
This morning when my baby woke up, he looked different. Of course, last night I had to go back into the bathroom and play with his springy strawberry curls, bounce them up and down; unwind them and let them curl back up. This morning he looked like a big boy, and I have a tinge of sadness inside. His curls were adorable to me, and the envy of all who saw him. Today I miss his hair. I need to keep telling myself I did the right thing. Eventually this day would come, right?
It doesn't help that Lyndsay's mourning too and said to me this morning, "I don't know why you had to cut it so short."
This is just the beginning of the achings of my mother heart. I've done this before, and I know.