As a parent there are some battles I just won't fight. And hair is about at the top of that list. I've always been extremely lax about the kids' hair. But, I've always made a firm policy that while one does not have to brush his or her hair, teeth brushing is indeed mandatory. So, when Sky wanted a mohawk in 2nd grade, I let him. And when he decided to grow an afro, I was equally permissive. I feel like it's their hair and if that's how they want to express themselves or rebel. Well, cool. (Although I've heard just recently the term cool is totally uncool, which makes me want to use it even more.)
Just because I allow them to experiment with their hair does not mean I like all of their coifs. But why do I have to like it? I don't have to wear it all day. And so what if it looks horrible? I know I did more of my fair share of bad hair. After all, I grew up in the 80's and I not only had a mullet, but I had huge New Jersey mall hair at my wedding! But, before I had either of those I had the pixie haircut. Which is just a cute name for a traditional boys hair cut worn by a girl. The problem was, I was so convincing in this haircut, I was often mistaken for a boy. Well, that and my collection of worms, jeans with the knees blown out, the baseball shirt that I wore constantly, combined with the fact that I had absolutely no chest when all my friends had already sprouted theirs. My hair and I? We've never been friends.
So I reminded him repeatedly that he must take care of his hair or we'd shave it off. I threatened that several times. I know I should have followed through, but I never did. I was convinced he needed to make the choice of when he was ready to part with his dry, stringy, split end ridden locks and stop being mistaken for a girl. But as the months progressed. he didn't budge, I grew more wary that he may never decide it was time and he would just continue to grow it. Then my fears escalated. Maybe he'd convert and become a Sikh and start wearing it in a turban. And the turban was starting to look like a good alternative to me.
Until this past Monday when I reminded him for the 100th time to actually use shampoo on his hair next time he showered. And out of nowhere he told me he was ready to cut it. Sweet Jesus! Finally! YES! His sisters and brothers stopped chattering in shock, but the whole family was staunchly supportive of his decision. Without hesitation or giving River time to retract his statement, Craig got out the clippers and started to work. The kids gathered around and carefully studied his face for signs of Post Traumatic Tress Disorder (PTTD). Which is absolutely ridiculous, because it's just way too soon for that. We should at least give it a week or two.
We thought we'd have some fun with it though and give him a chance to choose another hairstyle other than shaving it all off. Like the mullet. Thank god River didn't decide to keep it, because I was having a little PTTD of my own just looking at him.
And when it was done...
...we had a Maltese! Jade was so happy cause she's always wanted a dog. And I don't even need to feed, water or walk it. Now I guess we don't need to get that real dog I promised them when we move home. Damn it, I am aren't I?
Now all I'm left with is my pretty boy. Although, I should probably stop calling him pretty. It just sounds so girly.
11 comments:
Oh dear, and how I can relate to your hairy story! And he looks so ... cute!
I have had my share of bad hair years: desperately wanted to have a lion's mane, it turned out the godmother was a sheep, yak! And the time I went to my grandmother's funeral and died my hair hours before: instead of a lovely red I showed up in glowing purple (Lalia, do you hear me?), ztztztzt went the old aunties, I guess my grandmother would have laughed.
My oldest, Sawyer, has had his flaming red hair down to his shoulders for a year now. (he's 12, 13 in a week) He has my full lips and freckles--even the school nurse thought he was a girl until I corrected her! lol He takes it in stride though, and man--he has the best hair!
Your dude is a handsome one!
My Nik wore his hair long for years, well below his shoulders. The family would tease him (you know how our Loerzels can get.lol) but he wouldn't budge. I think after a while he kept it to spite everyone. He finally decided a couple years ago to cut it. I think it had something to do with a girl but he won't admit it. Now he wants it cut every 6 weeks.
It's not what your hair looks like but what's under it that matters.
Hurry back - Micky
Great tale- and great advice!
I shared this with my kids (who are no longer so young), as well.
Oh my goodness! He is beautiful no matter what. And, quite frankly, I was jealous of his long, blond locks ;)
A dog or Cousin It? As for the 'pretty'....nah.....I call Noah that all the time. And your son is 'pretty' so I see nothing wrong with it!
I've always been partial to long-haired boys. My grandson has glorious shiny dark brown hair, and gets it nearly shaved off in honor of his hero, the bald eagle. I agree with your philosophy of letting kids express themselves through their hair, even tho it's not always easy to tolerate.
You are lucky that he was ready to cut it. He is very cute now. I have been nagging my daughters because they need to trim their hair and all I get is a no. I don't know what to do.
Shall I send them to you?
He had gorgeous hair! He's going to love the ease of no-care hair. What a handsome guy!
I was wearing mine pretty short for a few years and then this summer I decided to let it grow out a little and dye it hot tamale red! LOL! Everything old is new again;)
Pretty awesome haircut! And way to carpe diem, Craig.
Such great before and after pics, Marie! I'm firmly in your camp of letting the kids do with their hair what they want, as long as it's clean. I figured that's one battle I don't have to fight. But who would have known it then led to a constant battle with my husband over me supposedly being too lax with the kids, and next thing we'd know there'd be anarchy at our house? We had a good year of that with our oldest, and thankfully he also decided one day out of the blue that he'd had enough and got it all shaved off for St. Baldrick's Day. Now the boys come and tell me when it needs to be cut, every six weeks, because the school gives them an ultimatum - cut your hair or you're not playing rugby. I love when other people make the rules.
Post a Comment