Miss Independent

For weeks, I've been wanting a pedicure.
For days, The Girl has been begging to paint my nails.

So, yesterday I got what I hope will be the first of many precious in-house salon experiences.

I knew it was going be a little... imperfect... when the paint brush strokes went side-to-side on my nail bed.

I couldn't resist taking this next picture (below). In fact, I made her pause her work to go and get the camera for me. (My toes were still wet!) I just love her focus, and the way she so delicately held my aging finger in her tiny hand.

Then, my heart broke a bit. How many of these precious "imperfect" moments have I missed over the last four years?

... when the laundry seemed more important...

... or I had a contract to write with clients...

... or needed to get dinner started...

... or dishes done... or return an email...

I'm wearing these nails with pride... all 20 of 'em. (We had to count them as she blew on each, individual nail bed to dry them more quickly.)

They're messy. They're imperfect. But the time-invested in getting them this way is one of those little nuggets I'll hide in my heart for the rest of my life.

I love you, Sweet Girl. Thanks for your persistence in getting me to slow down.