So yesterday, I was counting the minutes before I got to go get my hair done at my favorite salon.
I had given up on my hair a week ago, and now, twenty minutes before my appointment, I sat on my couch and read to Deborah and Ricky while I waited for the babysitter.
My hair was pulled back in an orange rubber band, and while the style might look adorable on Deborah, it wasn’t looking so hot on my 39-year-old head. My overgrown bangs were hanging in my face, and the fact that I could actually see the words on the book was nothing short of miraculous.
Then the sweetest thing happened. Deborah started playing with my hair. My gross, mangy, shapeless hair.
“Oh Deborah, you are such a sweetheart to fix mommy’s hair.” Of course that made Ricky want to get in on the action, and I was feeling so pampered, I could hardly stand to get up and leave to go to the salon.
“Thank you so much,” I said to both of them. “You guys are so good to your mommy.”
“Wanna know why we are doing this?” Ricky asked.
“Because we love you.” Melt a mother’s heart, why don’t you? Of course I started crying. It had been a big week, and this little tender mercy was just what my Friday needed.
I need these moments to help me remember why I’m still here. On Monday, I’m going to share a big chunk of my 100 goals list, but Ricky and Deborah helped me remember that a lot of those goals can wait.