There is no way that my last Baby is almost 2. Or is there?
Depends completely on when you ask. When she is sleeping I stare at her miniature angelic face and she seems so tiny. When she is standing in front of me screaming like a little maniac, she seems larger than life.
Today I took her for her first haircut. I mean, it really was time. You know, her baby curls were starting to just be stringy and her bangs were so long I wasn't sure anymore what color the child's eyes are. It was time. Time to find that one perfect stylist that wouldn't mind cutting the hair on a head that can't be still--not even for one second. Ever.
I took her to the salon I painstakingly picked out and made sure I had a spare lolly in my bag in case this place didn't have them on hand. A crucial accoutrement for times like these.Serenity took one look around the place, which incidentally was kid-friendly enough, and started trying to climb into my skin. We couldn't have been meshed any closer, and we had not even made it past the waiting area. Oh Boy.
It was going to be one of those days.
We made it back to the chair, I peeled her off my person and of course, she wouldn't sit up there in the little booster by herself. Or wear the cape. Or fall for the trick of looking at "the baby in the mirror".
So, she sat on my lap. Not such a bad thing. Until all of the hair began falling into my shirt, and down my arm and anywhere else it could land. I was fighting the urge to scratch and sneeze when I realized my Baby was entranced by the stylist's scissors. Is this a good thing I wondered? Then, I too became entranced- with the image staring back at me from the mirror. I watched as Her little curls were trimmed away, her bangs were chopped off (yeah, I meant to say chopped--they are definitely too short) and I realized how sad I was in that moment. At that point I wanted to cry. The transformation was spectacular, as all first real haircuts are. Out from under all that soft, fine baby hair emerged a Big Girl.
All said and done, this process took less than 5 minutes, but it was as if time stood still.
My Big Girl hopped down from my lap when it was over, retrieved her Big Tootsie Pop and marched her Big Self out the door.
Well!
Today Haircut. Tomorrow, Potty. Since I have such a Big Girl on my hands now and everything.
4 comments:
Damn. Good luck on the potty.
I've never taken mine for a haircut. And she cried when I came home with my own hair cut.
Awwww. It's sweet and sad at the same time.
After my brother's first haircut, he started screaming "Where did all my curls go? The barber cut off all my curls!"
Three words: portable DVD player. Ever since we figured that trick out, Bub has had haircuts where both sides of his head actually match!
Oh. Yes, I can see it, how a little girl can morph into a big girl seemingly in seconds.
You described the time at the salon so well.
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