Family Knots

Night time reading to my children is one of my favorite parts of momhood.

The kids cuddle round and I exert myself to read with expression and clarity. It's kind of like performing a play. And I get all the parts. Rose likes to brush and style my hair while I read. There is usually a boy laying across my lap whose back I get to scratch while performing my play, truly taking multi-tasking to a new level. I wrap up a chapter and there's a moment of stillness as we try to re-enter reality. Last night was a little different.

Rose decided to take the comb to the bottom of my long hair and roll it up all the way to my scalp. She then tried to pull it out. It didn't work.

The family gathered round. Consultations were held. Ideas were tried. Bits of plastic comb went flying through the air as they tried to cut it out. I was told I had two options:1. Wear the remainder of the plastic comb in my hair for the rest of my life or 2. Cut my hair off at the scalp above my ear.

I replied that I would not choose either option (although if pressed, I was leaning towards 1) and that they needed to get the comb out no matter how long it took, and I would read to them while they did it. Rose gave it a try and I proceeded with Little Women.

And something prodded my heart while I was reading. A nudge to remember this. Just this. A family reading together while trying to get out the tangles. A family that cuddles and shares and laughs at the same spots even though there are extenuating circumstances. A family that keeps doing what it knows no matter what.

We finished the chapter and Rose triumphantly showed me the freed hair, most of it laying on the couch, some of it still attached to my scalp. I said, "Yay! Good job Rose!" We buzzed into PJ/teeth-brushing mode, and I smiled. These are good days. We encounter glitches, snarls, mistakes, and we consult, with each other and God, and then we stay true to the path we know. We continue to move forward into what comes next. We may not come through any given situation unscathed, but I believe we will come through.

I believe in family.
I believe the bond created between these 6 people is strong.
I believe the foundation for our family is unshakable; Christ the Cornerstone.
I believe that unconditional love is molded right here in our home.
I believe that every hug, every smile, every washed dish, matters.

So tonight, I will hand Rose the comb with a grin just for her. She will style my hair while I read. There will be a boy stretched across my lap and an older daughter drawing. There will be dogs sprawled on the carpet when they're supposed to be in their beds. I will navigate the octaves trying to make the characters real.

Because we're family, and this is what we do.

Loose

The reasons for caging Posy no longer exist. The fumes obviously got to her in a big way because she participated in Rowan's game of barbershop. His play went as follows: sit Rose on an ottoman in her room, tell mom we're having a tea party, tie a piece of toilet paper around her neck (personally I thought this touch rather ingenious), tie a blanket over that, find a sharp scissors (one out of mommy's sewing box will work seeing as she never uses it), and CUT off every trace of blond hair you can get to without injuring Rose and thereby incurring intervention.

I know it will grow back but even buckets-full of luscious hair couldn't erase the mental picture of her newly shorn.

We were at a loss for punishment for Rowan because he brought her to me and presented her with the air of a creator gloating over his masterpiece. Begrudgingly I must admit he did a fairly decent job (thank you friend who suggested that this might lead to career options).

We always have the choice to laugh or cry at our children's shenanigans. I did both, which I believe to be a relatively safe option.