Hairbrush

I will never forget this  moment.

He is perched, wrapped in a towel, on the counter in the bathroom, watching me run a brush through my hair, looking in the mirror. Little heels hit the side of the sink. Little hands clap. Little eyes drink in every movement and sound. Little sounds of happiness chirp through the calm of early evening. The towel is forgotten, the toys left idle. The interest is in me alone, and my hairbrush.

Bah!” He says, and reaches out. “Bah!

“Do you want me to brush your hair?” I ask.

Bah!

I run my brush through his soft, damp, blonde wisps. Straight back, like James Dean or Elvis. Rows of gossamer strands slicked into fluid baby hair waves. A tiny infant rebel. 

He stops, eyes swivelling up, mouth open at the *rusk-rusk-rusk* sound the bristles make on his scalp.  Entranced, he smiles his wide, near-toothless grin as I lift the brush away, back to my own hair. His hand reaches up to his head and mirrors my action, converting smooth combed hair to rumpled mohawk, like an infant punk-rocker. Still the tiny infant rebel.

“You want your own brush?”

Bah!

A little hand wraps around the proffered little brush, just for him, stored for such a moment. Tiny, soft, white bristles, tiny blue dotted handle. It is chewed for a moment, turned over and over in inquisitive little hands and questioning bleats of tiny voice. It is tapped against the faucet, the soap dispenser, the mirror. All surfaces elliciting giggles, all actions providing amazement for both mother and son.

But when bristles meet hair in the semblence of a stroke, then another, and another, a squeal of excitement and the furious kicking of legs begins. The novelty is now, and the fascination is complete.

I will never forget this moment.

Advertisements

12 thoughts on “Hairbrush

    • Thanks! I can remember looking in the mirror and thinking “I want to remember this” so I kept it in my head until I could write it down. 🙂

  1. Awww…so touching and adorable. It’s so nice when we remember to enjoy the little moments we have with them. They grow up too fast. Great post. Your writing is poetic.

    • Thanks for reading! This is why I scrapbook as well. To remember the moments. I have a terrible memory brought on by sleep deprivation mommy-brain, so I’m trying to write things down so in ten years when I finally get to my son’s baby pictures, I’ll rmember stuff (hah!).

  2. Hmmm….I scrapbook too. I do it for the kids to remember and also to “hear” my voice through my journaling when they’re older. I never thought about it but it also serves to help me remember, like you said. And why are all of us scrapbookers always behind?! Too many pictures and living life I guess. 🙂

    • LOL, my journaling is often a large portion of my pages. Its very validating to tell your story with both picture and word. And behind… I’m still on 2006 pictures, the eyar my husband and I started dating! Eeep…

    • Congratulations, and best of luck! Remember to revel in the small moments, but don’t sweat the small stuff. 🙂

    • Thank you!

      He started kicking his legs three days after he was born. We would leave him on his change mat, and he would stare at the mobile above it (Yes a mobile above the change mat, we spoil our son LOL) and kickkickkick! He hasn’t stopped. He had hamstrings the same size of most two year olds have now.

    • My son moved only at night. It was terrible! I would lie down, be drifting off in sweet bliss and *kickickkickflutterkick* would start for hours. I never slept….. guh…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s