The Most Important Eight Minutes of the Day

"Mom, can you braid my hair?"  It's my 13 year old, Jelly Bean, asking if I can french braid her hair before she goes to bed.  Not just one french braid...two french braids.  I pause on the steps, my arms overflowing with laundry.  I glance behind me and see the sink still filled with the dinner dishes.  And my head is swimming with all the other things still on my to-do list for the evening...bills, reports for work, and more laundry.  Always more laundry.

Honestly, I don't want to do her hair.  It's just one more thing to add to my list.  I need to get the laundry put away.  I need to clean up the kitchen.  I really need to get my reports done for work.  But I put all that aside, drop the laundry on my bed (I wasn't really going to put it all away now anyway), and I head into her room to do her hair.

A few months back, on one of the many nights when I was braiding her hair, Jelly Bean asked me, "How long does it take you to braid my hair?"  I asked her why, and she said one of her friends asked her.  So, we timed it.  The total amount of time it takes me to put two french braids in her hair?  Eight minutes.  That's it, just eight minutes!  That kind of surprised me.  I guess after all this time, I've gotten pretty good at it.  But really, eight minutes just not that much time out of my whole day. 

What I came to realize that night is that those eight minutes are some of the most important minutes of my day.  Because guess what happens during that eight minutes?  Yes, of course, Jelly Bean's hair gets braided.  But guess what else happens?  We talk.  I get a precious eight uninterrupted minutes with my teenager.  Granted, she's usually got her phone in her hands.  But I use whatever it is she's doing on her phone as a chance to have a conversation.  She's texting or snapchatting with a friend?  I ask her about how her friendships are going.  She's playing Minecraft?  I let her narrate to me what she's doing in her latest world (which honestly I don't understand at all, but she loves it and I want her to know I'm interested in what she's interested in.) Sometimes she's watching a show or movie on Netflix, and it gives me an opportunity to see what she's watching and chat with her about it.

Rarely are we silent during these eight minutes, but even if we are, it's still valuable time spent.  Sometimes it's the only time she and I have, alone, together, during the day.  My 9 year old daughter Rosie is usually tucked into bed at that point, so it's just Jelly Bean and me.  And I know that even though I have a thousand other things I could be doing instead of braiding her hair, this is where I need to be.  Before I know it, she won't want me to braid her hair anymore.  Even now, she doesn't ask me every night.  Before I know it, she'll move on to some other hairstyle, or she'll figure out how to braid her hair herself.  Before I know it, she will not want to spend those eight minutes with me anymore.  I'm lucky she still wants to now...she is closer to me than some of her peers are to their moms.  I need to soak in every minute she's willing to give me.  

So I put down the laundry basket, remind myself that the dishes can always get done later (I'm an excellent procrastinator anyway), and mentally plan another time to get the work reports completed.  And I head upstairs to spend the most important eight minutes of the day with my daughter. 

Jelly Bean's braids! (obviously this pic was not taken at night!)

I'd love to hear from you, dear reader!  How do you carve out special time with your loved ones? Comment below!