Aveda and Eternity

I finally made a decision about something I have really been debating about lately.  I have spent the better part of three months deciding whether to purchase Aveda's Be Curly.  I am not usually a very brand loyal customer, especially when I could buy a cart full of stuff from the ARC for the same price of one bottle and be distracted with half a new wardrobe for at least six months.  BUT...seriously, if you have naturally curly (read: unruly) hair, you will love this stuff and you'll smell like a spa.  On the other hand, it's $20 for 16 measly ounces.  I guess it's a bigger tube than most of their other products.  (Sheepish grin...)

Here's a small peek inside my crazy brain that may help to understand my dilemma more completely...

"I really love that Aveda Be Curly.  It makes my hair so soft and bouncy.  And it smells delicious.  And why shouldn't I adore the way my hair looks?  If I get five minutes in the morning to get my hair done, I deserve to have something I love.  I slave away wiping butts and cooking chicken nuggets all day long and they won't even remember any of it until they're past the butt-wiping age anyway!  Woe is me!"

{Small pause for self-rebuttal...}

"But, I love being a mom.  It's not a burden.  It's a joy.  And although it kind of smells like teenage girl, Garnier Fructis still works just fine at $2.99 a bottle.  JUST FINE.  I could buy a lot of other things with that $20.  I mean, who am I to spend $20 on one hair product when there are moms out there who can't afford to diaper and feed their babies, when people sleep in the cold (or heat...), when there is hunger and basic needs aren't being met?  With all of that in mind, who seriously gives a flip about my stupid hair?  If I truly loved with a selfless, Christ-like love, I would march out of my house right now and go donate that money to the nearest worthy cause..."

Who knew Aveda could inspire such depth?

So I have done a lot of soul-searching on this one.

After a fun-filled week of 3-hour sleep stretches (and that's a long one) with little Mikey, two trips to the pediatrician, and one fabulous night at Urgent Care to treat my son who transformed into a seal over the course of four hours (thank you Croup...), I needed some retail therapy.  In my world, that's really mostly window shopping.

Anywho, without one instant's hesitation, I marched into Aveda, made a beeline for the Be Curly bottles and shoved one in the salesman's hand before he could talk me into buying anything else.  I shamelessly handed over my debit card as fast as I could manage.  I did it.  I bought the Be Curly.

As I walked out of the store, I asked myself, "Do you really feel better now?  Are you happy?  I mean, excited, yes, but happy?  At peace?  A little holier?..." (I rain on my own parades sometimes.)

But don't worry, God decided to remind me how silly it all was.

Mikey, the poor little chap, was asleep in the Ergo, and Joseph was riding in the Big Red BOB.  Naturally, I just threw everything that didn't have legs (purse, Joseph's shoes and socks that got thrown off upon entrance to the kid's play area, and my recently acquired hair magic) into Michael's side of Big Red.  As we were making the trek out to the parking lot, and I was contemplating my final decision on the Aveda purchase, I was snapped back into reality by Joseph's sweet little voice.

"Momma...Mommy lotions!...Uh oh..."

Low and behold, in less than five seconds, my favorite toddler had my precious hair magic clamped between his little monster paws.  I watched in personal horror as at least two days worth of product oozed out onto his mini frat boy shorts.

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!"  was my first impulse.  Luckily, what actually came out was, "Joseph, that's not lotion!  That's mommy's hair things!" (I know, I'm teaching my kid bad grammar already.)

"Oh!  Hairs!"  And then proceeded to slather two fistfuls of Be Curly into his dirty boy mop.

Every ounce of me wanted yell "That cost me $20!  No, no, no!  What are you doing?!"  and then take it all and slather it in my own hair so that it wouldn't go to waste.  But, seeing as how I can't remember if I actually washed my hair this morning or not, it was kind of a moot point.

Finally, I saw the humor of it all and laughed as I took the bottle from him and buckled it safely in the front passenger seat of the car.  Safety first.

I know, Lord.  Aveda isn't really that important.

At least Joseph smelled fantastic all day long.