I took my 10-year-old to a hair salon that wasn’t designed for her.
All of her friends had been. They’d come back with stories and I’d watched my daughter file that away the way kids do — quietly, without complaint, but you know they’re keeping track.
She has beautiful, very curly hair – we take her to a salon 30 minutes away to get it done. But I thought if she could get a manicure at the nearby salon, she could at least have a version of the experience. Something to add to the conversation.
While she was spilling over with excitement about finally getting to go to the salon, I spent the drive over running scenarios. What if they looked at us and her curly hair and said no. What if it was awkward. What if I’d miscalculated the whole thing and made it worse instead of better.
They were welcoming before we were fully through the door.
Warm, unhurried, completely unbothered by the calculus I had done on their behalf. There was no moment. No hesitation I had to navigate. Just a little girl getting her nails done in a place her friends had been.
I stood there and genuinely could not locate the thing I had been afraid of.
After, we wandered into a pet store. Camilla saw a fish. I said yes.
The fish she originally wanted required a 20 gallon tank. We did not have, and I was not buying, a 20 gallon tank. We compromised on a white Molly fish, which Camilla named Cloud before we’d even paid for her…or maybe it’s a him. We’ll never know.
Then the employee walked us through supplies.
Tank. Filter. Gravel. Water conditioner.
I stopped her at water conditioner.
“Can’t I just fill it with tap water?”
She looked at me the way you look at someone who has asked a question that reveals everything. Not unkind. Just calibrating. I was learning in real time, no research, just going with it.
I was not prepared for this responsibility.
We also obviously needed tank decorations to make Cloud feel at home.
The final receipt was $90. For a $5 fish.
Here’s what I know: if I had researched the fish, I would have found the 20 gallon tank requirement on day one and talked myself out of the whole thing. Cloud would not exist in the version of that afternoon where I did my due diligence.
And if I had trusted my scenarios over the salon, Camilla might not have that afternoon either.
The research wouldn’t have saved me $85. The fear wouldn’t have protected her from anything. Both just would have been overhead on a day that didn’t require it.
Sometimes I question whether I’m an effective mom and days like this give me data.
Camilla has none of the hesitation I carry. No concern about the salon, the fish, the cost, the logistics. Just a complete belief that things will probably work out.
Cloud is swimming in a tank we didn’t see coming, named by someone who never once doubted the whole thing would work out.
She was right. She usually is.