Sunday, June 21, 2015

A cute little story about fathers on Father's Day

What do kids who don't have dads do on Father's Day? Mine is at the beach right now and this afternoon we will spend time with her Grandpa.
When she asks why other kids have a Daddy, we just tell her how lucky she is to have two Mommies and that she has Grampy, Grandpa, Uncle Terry, Uncle Paul, Uncle Richie, Uncle John, Uncle Bubba, Uncle Joe, and Uncle Ben to help us fill in that special place. Most days she is completely unaffected, perfectly well balanced and centered, but some days it hits her a little differently.

About a month ago we were having our morning discussion in the hot tub as she stole sips of coffee from my mug. These kind of mornings we have deep conversations, not one typical of having with a five year old. It started like this.

"Who made you, Momma?"

"What?" I said, a little stunned.

"Where did you come from?" Senia Mae asked.

"Well, Grammy and Grampy are my parents. I came from them."

"But who created you?" I was a little surprised at the depth of her question, assuming they must have been talking about creation in Sunday School that week.

"Oh. God created me and you and all the birds... basically everything. He gave us his son, Jesus to forgive our mistakes."

"So God is Jesus' father?" she asked innocently.

"Yes and God is the father to all of us. We are all God's children," I said, hoping I had explained it in a way she could understand.

"So I DO have a father!" The look of satisfaction on her face was so pure and undeniable, like she had just been explained the answer to the question of life itself.

"Yes, Senia Mae, God is your father," I said.

Suddenly all was well with the world and Senia Mae swam away happy and content that yes, she indeed did have a father. Before I could even process the depth of our conversation or how affected or unaffected she actually was, she was already onto the next topic and stealing another sip of my coffee!

Saturday, June 20, 2015

It's all in the wave

All my grandmother ever wanted was curly hair. Well maybe not all, but there was definitely a deep yearning, enough so that she married a wavy-locked man in order to pass the desired gene on to her offspring. Unfortunately all four of their daughters ended up with stick straight hair as well as the same undeniable curling desire. If any of you have seen pictures of me you know the end result... the hair DNA skipped a generation. On humid days in Georgia I practically have a full Afro. Don't get me wrong, I fully appreciate all my grandmother's efforts, enough to write a book about it and name my daughter in her memory. But the connection runs deeper.

Senia Mae sees things on a very linear level. Whenever we play princesses, even though there are a total of eleven, I always have to be Snow White because we both have dark, curly hair. Why can't I be Merida (very curly hair) or Tianna (an excellent cook) or Ariel (a wonder in the water)? With my natural traits and talents I could easily be one of those princesses. Her answer is always, "No, Momma, you have curly hair... you have to be Snow White." And so it goes. Once again, I am Snow White, even in the summer with a tan.

I wasn't aware that Gram's curly hair obsession was spontaneously transferred into my young daughter until the day I spritzed some product into her hair right after her bath. She wanted me to wrap the terry cloth towel around her head and let it sit for a few minutes, like I do mine. When I removed it she looked in the mirror and responded like this, "I love the curls... I love the curls!" It was so adorable. Here's the YouTube link:

And that is why the book had to be named The Significance of Curly Hair, because even if we don't really admit it, in this family the deep, yearning desire for waves is utterly undeniable.