Today I attempted to have my 2+ year old’s hair cut. His very first hair cut. It’s a milestone moment.
My boy has beautiful golden locks, that curl in every which way thanks to the buhzillion cowlicks that made a pretty little home around his forehead and crown.
I’ve been putting this off since I’m far too emotional to part with his hair right now. Poor kid has been walking around gently pushing the hair away from his eyes and face. Although his Beyonce hand and head moves are the boss to watch, I knew it was time to do something about it.
I had my little pouch ready to put his beautiful golden locks into and cherish forever. Maybe even brush them and tie them up in a blue bow, then tuck them away safely with all his other ‘firsts’ in his little ‘firsts’ box. I am one of those Mums and proud of it.
So that went down like a lead balloon.
The poor hairdresser didn’t make it two feet near him before he screamed, thrashed around and cried. It was quite the show.
I tried sitting him on my lap with his Coilbook Counting Max and the Monster Trucks but not even his beloved cars could distract this kid.
The hairdresser attempted a few times and in the end said “Non! C’est pas possible” and sent me on my merry way.
So I took my bruised parenting ego home and consulted the Google Gods for the answers.
Apparently we need to go here ….
Until I find this toddler hairdressing heaven I will take my Mum’s and Auntie’s advice and cut his hair myself, when he is fast asleep.
Pinky swear I will not use a bowl.