Many years ago I decided, decidedly, that I was not to be a painted nail girl. Not for any sort of statement but just for two simple reasons:
- It felt weird. With painted nails I moved like Edward Scissor Hands, like my digits were foreign and not to be trusted.
- It went to hell. I garden and cook. I do normal things that I think everyone else does. But it appears normal, active people also have painted nails?! I’ve never understood this.
I haven’t felt like writing lately. It’s an uncomfortable feeling but one I’m chewing on. Tonight I feel like writing and I’m giving myself permission to ditch the 27 drafts I have and start new and easy and without expectation, like a four year-old’s freshly painted nails.
While shopping this week, my youngest requested new nail polish because “ours is gloppy and doesn’t spread out at all.” That’s because it’s all from the 1900s. College Halloween parties, most likely. I said yes, which doesn’t often happen in these sorts of situations. She picked two colors. Turquoise and neon purple.
It got me thinking, in that bright, cosmetically-alluring aisle.
Do I still chew my nails? I must. Because I never cut them and they are short. Or is that just because of my rough ways? I honestly don’t know if I bite my nails or not. I do know I have rough ways.
Mama?
Yeah? (staring at my garden-dirty, jagged, asymmetrical nails)
Do you want to paint your nails with me?
Yes.
I answered quickly, like a dare to myself and also a high five to Ruby. I chose my color and we checked out. We also bought nail polish remover and cotton balls.
Our Mother’s Day was good and slow, gentle and loud. I felt thoughtful about loss. It seems the clip of death and illness is picking up in our lives. I guess this is to be expected as we age. It’s hard. And often feels unfair. How do we react? What do we say? We exist and we hug. We dig in like it’s our last dig.
The new-nail-polish afternoon was magic in the way any new thing is magic with a four and six year old. It could have been a thrifted cup or a fresh grapefruit or a rearranged living room. This day it was nail polish and that mama was doing it too.
They watched me intently, their noses a few inches from my fingers, as I expertly smeared the dark goo across my nails. I was deliberate and exact, an Opi Ninja. They were impressed and that made me laugh. They laughed with me.
Ruby chose all neon purple, every nail, many coats. It mostly all smeared off in moments. Some on her cheek, some on the back of her hand. Margot chose to have the tips of her nails painted in the black polish I chose for mine. She’s heard of a french manicure, she explained, from our neighbor and insisted this was how it looked. So, essentially, I painted her nails to look like mud was packed under the tips, which is how our family’s nails look most days anyway.
We spread our fingers like starfish in the sun and chatted about our day, reminding each other to NOT BONK THE NAILS. It didn’t work or it exactly worked, as Ruby pointed out when she said:
It’s ok if it goofs. That’s how it’s ‘posed to be. And we can do it again! Differently next time, which will be even more fun.
33 Comments
Dear Nici,
It’s always lovely to read your stories. Nails seem to be an interesting indicator of whether we’re living life physically enough. I know if my nails get too long, well I musn’t have been climbing recently enough to file them up and down the rock, and if I haven’t been doing that, then I’ve been missing something which brings me simple joy. In your gardening, sewing, cooking, hiking, mothering type life, your hands are your practical tools, decorating everything around you, and maybe less able to do so if decorated themselves and worried about chipping?! Meanwhile, that black polish does look very elegant and I love that it was a together activity.
Thank you always for your thoughtful blogposts,
Ali of Ze Alps.
It’s ok if it goofs.
Love that. I need a wise little Ruby in my life to remind me!
Hi Nici,
Just felt like saying hello on the cozy dark night as you post this. No matter how fruitless or frustrating you feel like your writing may be, I hope you know that it is still magic to us readers.
Oh my. EXACTLY what I needed to hear today after a goof-filled work day.
Ruby, you are a wise one!
Ebb and flow. Your writing spark will return, and until then, we all wait patiently and enjoy the drops we can get! Truly truly, your writing fills me up – usually when I need it the most.
Keep on keepin on! X
Totally love!!!! All.of.these.words. It feels free and kinda flowy and straight from inside. I went to your page a day or two ago, in my blog-catching-up-hop. Glad you shared! 🙂
I love that when Ruby wanted to do something that you don’t really approve of, or want to do, or goes against who you are, you explored the possibility with her and did it anyway. Most mothers would have used their feelings to intimidate their child into thinking the way they do and of course that eventually causes lack of communication and resentment when they become older. Your wonderful conversations with us which seem to be just entertaining stories on the surface are true lessens how to parent and have deep messages under each sentence.
Awe John, what kind words. I try to be that kind of mom. Thanks for your comment.
I love your Edward Scissor Hands analogy, that’s exactly how I feel with painted nails. Sometimes I do paint them anyway but it always feels strange. Love your writing, and the wisdom of your wise daughters. Thank you
Beautiful. I love this approach to art and writing and life. I might go paint my nails messy on purpose just to remind myself. 🙂
Oh that Ruby, so very smart. 🙂 Absolutely love when you have a new post. Happy Friday!
I have 3 girls, the two oldest often ask for me to paint their nails. I secretly hate this. It might be the tomboy in me. But I give in…I too feel like an imposter with painted nails. 🙂 funny eh?
yours is my favorite blog. i have a little girl, almost two, and i hope to parent her the way you seem to parent your girls.
Isn’t it interesting how the need to write comes in waves? I embrace it when its here and fill up with other things when its not. I love the free-writing though- just saying whatever comes to mind. I think you did that beautifully here.
Sidenote: I am a tomboy who never painted her nails until recently. It still feels weird and alien but I was chewing them to bloody pulps and this is the only way my mouth stays off of them. Nail polish tastes disgusting. But we can be both/and, can’t we? A tomboy and nail-polished fingers. Jeans and dresses. Ebb and flow. I refuse to let either/or define me.
Love this.
It’s okay if it goofs.
Well, I need to keep that little phrase on an auto loop in my head today. Sweet, Ruby. I ‘ve been group texting with some of the Cypress Cabin gals from Doe Bay and I think we’re all in this weird groove together. We were all energy and ideas when we got home and motivated. Then self-doubt started creeping in and writer’s block, or fear that our work isn’t good enough, etc. So, I feel ya when you say you don’t feel like writing lately.
Sink into your rituals and routines. It will come back to you.
Until then, go paint your nails…again and again.
Self-doubt and writing are a pervasive duet. I don’t know a single writer who doesn’t experience wicked waves of it. The good news? The other side is bright and it always comes. I’ll give you your own advice: paint your nails (or circles ;)) again and again. xo
Nici, there is a gentle authenticity to your words. It’s part of what I find so compelling about your writing, and it comes through so clearly in these “just-sit-and-write” posts.
As someone who doesn’t like getting her hands dirty (figuratively and literally), it takes a lot of effort to work up the courage to try something for the first time, especially if there’s a good chance I’ll mess up somehow. I’m starting to see these same tendencies in my own girl, as she struggles with the all too familiar fear of being/creating something “not good enough”.
I’m tucking Ruby’s wise words away in my pocket for the next time my girl (or myself), needs some truth 🙂
Isn’t it interesting when the writing doesn’t come easily? It’s uncomfortable but in a way that teaches me new ways to tap in and find it within me. I love the free-writing as well; you captured that beautifully.
Sidenote: I’m a tomboy who never painted her nails until recently. It still feels weird and alien but I had realized I was chewing my nails to bloody pulps and this was the only way to break that habit. Nail polish tastes disgusting. But isn’t it liberating that we can be both/and? A tomboy and nail-polished fingers. Jeans and dresses. Ebb and flow. I refuse to live my life as an either/or.
Death and illnesses……is it just remnants from the end of winter in the grand circle, or is this what middle age brings? Yikes. It feels heavy this spring.
Love the black French manicure image as yesterday had me emptying kitchen drawers searching for the fingernail brush…..I should have just done what Margot chose!
Mary
It does feel heavy this spring. It’s felt heavy for the last year of my life, actually. I’m not sure about the why. I think it’s just life in 30s and 40s. Parents are aging and kids are growing. Lots of vulnerable pieces we love out there.
I liked this entry a lot, both for itself and because something about its composition reminded me of your nuggets, which I used to love, in large part because they covered so many topics and seemed so free and unencumbered by governing themes or structure.
Anyhow, returning to the topic, I hate nail polish, and am always initially a little suspicious of people who maintain perfect nails. I’m working on this, don’t worry.
I miss nuggets too! They started out so simple and then turned into this behemoth…I’m not sure how the simplicity got away from me. I was feeling like I had to document so much and didn’t give myself permission to leave stuff out…silly, but I was beholden to hump day nuggets. So I took a step back. Maybe it’s time to reignite the nuggs – to take a step back into that.
I’d love that, but do whatever you like! I always enjoy your writing, long-form, nugg-form, whatever.
The 27 drafts…uh huh, know how that goes. And then the fresh start, trusting that what’s happening in the moment is story enough, and that your writing chops will bridge the gap. Yay for diving in and putting it out there. xo
It brings me such relief to know you understand the 27 drafts! Like, if you – rockstar writer – get what I’m saying, well then. 🙂 Love you and your life’s work, lady. xo
I am allergic to nail polish and I garden and I cook so I am just happy if my are clean! If I feel like it I will use a buffer to make them shine! Love your blog! Love your girls!
My 27 drafts usually get ditched for photo-laden posts and I save the writing for fresh and easy. Totally. I miss nuggets too. But then I found you on instagram and realized that’s where your nuggs went. I’m allergic to polish too, on my fingernails. It just draws attention to my dirty, dry, cracked hands. But toes? I will let my toes succumb if my husband wants to, since he’s the nail-painter in our family. Loved this. Missed your style.
It’s ok if it goofs. Wisdom beyond her years.
I’ve painted my finger nails 2x in the past 10 years. I never enjoyed my nails painted; I can FEEL the paint over my nails that feel like they’re trying to breathe. Grosses me out. Maybe I’m weird? About a year ago I started painting my toenails regularly, for me, for no reason other than I wanted to. I kind of really like it. But finger nails will always be a no thanks.
Sorry to hear about all the loss in your life. XO
“So, essentially, I painted her nails to look like mud was packed under the tips, which is how our family’s nails look most days anyway.” <— favorite quote. loved it all though…you make me laugh lady. 😉
There is so much wisdom in embracing the goofs. And gosh, I wish I would do it more often. I’m with you on lack of desire to write lately (not sure why?), so I’m just throwing my energy into the garden instead. My nails and Margot’s would probably match perfectly right now. 🙂
“I painted her nails to look like mud was packed under the tips…” Omg, belly laugh! x0x0x
hee hee, this made me laugh right out loud, “So, essentially, I painted her nails to look like mud was packed under the tips”. You have a way with words 🙂
My daughter wanted to paint my nails today too, she tried to paint roses but got frustrated that it wasn’t working. She decided to try baking her own cookies instead, with great success. She said, “I wanted to make sure I was good at something.”
I really admire how much you allow yourself to learn from your daughters. Sometimes I get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of the every day that I forget to pause and really listen to and appreciate the perspective my kids are generous enough to share with me. Thank you for the reminder.