Graceful Parenting in Austin

It’s not often I find my hairdresser in a nightgown…

I thought I had it together, I left work in time, picked up Baby Girl, had everything she needed to fall asleep at a friend’s house that night and I got to my haircut appointment just in time. Except the studio was dark and locked. So, normally I would go home, but this studio is a home studio in my hairdresser’s back yard. So, should I knock?

I’m pretty sure this is my appointment time and it isn’t easy to get it all together to get here. Maybe she is just running late. Maybe I should wait. Well, I could call, that would be normal. Except it seemed not normal to call someone who was probably twenty feet away so I knocked on the door and her young daughter l answered.

“Mommy, there is a lady at the door!” she called out to the back of the house.

Then my hairdresser came to the door in her night gown.

Well, maybe I have the wrong appointment time. And it is a strange feeling to be at your hairdresser’s house while she is in a night gown and you don’t even have an appointment.

But, my hairdresser, her name is Cameo, the one who gave me the pony tail haircut, she made things easier than they seemed to be at first. She got dressed and we met outside. She looked at the schedule and my appointment was for the next day. I said oh, my, let me come back then, I’m sorry for bothering you at home. But, Cameo was easy going and she said no, now was a fine time for a haircut and she was meaning to get dressed anyway.

Baby Girl wasn’t into it at first. She is just starting to have more opinions about where she is and how close she is to me or her Dad. She had come with me several times before and she would hang out in an exersaucer in front of my chair. But today, when I was a little further away, leaning back to get my hair washed, she couldn’t see me and she started to cry. She was really upset, she makes the saddest face when she is upset. I held her until she calmed down and then she sat on my lap and we played while I laid back and got my hair washed.

Cameo called into the house for her daughter. She came out and played with Baby Girl. She chose all the right toys and made great conversation with Baby Girl (you know, ‘ga ga ga’ and ‘na na na’ mostly). She was really sweet.

It was all easy and I got a great haircut, Cameo got off work early the next day and her daughter got some spending money for helping with Baby Girl. And I noticed that I go with the flow more than I used to. Before, I would have been mad at myself for getting the day wrong, then frustrated about the traffic on I35 on the way to my friend’s house. And then when my friend’s son, who I was babysitting, cried and cried and there was no decent food delivery to their house, I would have called it a really bad night, but it was all just OK in a way. Just taking one step at a time. No measuring each moment against a preset standard in my head for how fast I’m supposed to get there or who is supposed to cry or not.

I used to think this kind of relaxed attitude would make me lazy and I wouldn’t grow as a person if I wasn’t hard on myself and demanding more. But having this flow about things feels so much better. And the cool thing is that, in the end, I am more. I am more patient and flexible and probably nicer to be around.

I learned somewhere along the way that finding my hairdresser in her nightgown doesn’t have to be the beginning of a bad night. And that is a really good thing.

UPDATE - See correction.