hair, motherhood, and existentialism

i want fluffy hair again.

post-motherhood, i did what all hip and yummy mummies do, and cropped my hair a la katie holmes. a sassy straight swinging bob, so practical for mothering (bending your head over sleeping feeding child; getting a baby carrier onto your torso quickly).

i loved that stylish bob, and it instantly made me look more together and preened with little effort, compared to the stringy wild nest mess i was heaving around (given that a baby means no time to take a proper bath much less deep condition and comb your hair, and forget about regular trims to keep it in shape).

but now that my baby is grown, and is asserting his new found identity (my little child is a whole person, and will do it all by himself thanks very much) and revelling in the world of discoveries he is unearthing... now that I am no longer needed in the same way i was by a baby, with total and utter and complete dependence upon my care and nurturing and dutiful attendance;
well, so now i feel a little lost. i feel like i too, like him, need to discover who i now am and what i am now about.
these are big questions, and questions whose bigness frightened me when i was smaller (ie before i became a mother. motherhood expands you in every possible way - your heart, your courage, your strength.. the relentless and impossible tasks stretch you so much and make you reach out and touch the universe with your fingertips, that you find yourself surprised by the sheer mass of your being now).

when i became a mother, those questions were answered instantly.
Who am i? i am a mother, his goddess, his universe. What is the point of my being? to nurture, to give life, to love, to bring a person into glorious being. What shall i do with my days? all of the above, and find time to bathe.Is my heart empty? no, it is full with desperate tears and heart-rending joy.
This is what it means to be the mother of a baby.

but what does it mean to be the mother of a toddler? if having a baby breaks down all the previously familiar lines and fears within you, then mothering a toddler (with all its "no mummy, i want to do it myself") gives you a chance to join him in discovering identity and new abilities. your days are filled with "what do i want?" "how do i get over there?" "look what i can do!", and these are questions inherently full of hope and promise.

this is a very positive way to frame the thoughts i've been having of late. the same questions "what do i want?" "how do i get over there?" "what can i do?" can seem so bleak sometimes.. and sometimes i feel such loss at the passing of the baby-days, when i was a goddess.
but when who you once were is now passed, all you can do, after all, is think about who you can be next.

which is how i came to thoughts of my hair. that was the phase that preceded mothering, my girl phase. when i was a girl (because i was a sort of child before, maturity only turning up later), i had a fluffy wilful mane. it was full of spirit and its own ideas, i was always fighting it, but it brought me to exciting places.

i don't know why girlishness appeals right now. perhaps it's a reactionary attempt to redress the balance; having dealt with life forces and the universe, now a frivolous frothy approach is appealing, just for the difference?

my heart just wants.