Sunday was supposed to be a day of crossing off the many mundane items off my dreaded to-do list. After Lucas’s morning nap we headed out for a walk to get rid of those post sleep wiggles. After Saturdays hair cut fail I sort of came to terms with the fact that a hair cut for my tot was not in the cards and removed it from my never ending list. What happened on our walk was what I least expected. I left the house with a long, curly haired baby and came home with a clean cut toddler.
As we walked beside Lucas, making small talk about his upcoming birthday, we came across a new kids salon that recently opened up in our neighborhood. If you follow me on Instagram then you know I was totally against paying $30 to have Lucas sit in an airplane. Welp. Here we were, sitting in an airplane, about to dish out 30 bones for his first cut. Motherhood is funny that way, isn’t it? I’d like to tell you a mushy story about how happy and overjoyed I was but if I’m being honest I stood quietly beside my son, snapping photos, and feeling sick to my stomach. I was naseaous you guys! I could only offer my baby an occasional, meek “you’re doing a great job honey!” We walked home and I couldn’t stop staring at this little person beside me who seemed to instantly transform from a baby to a boy. I held it together until I called my mom to tell her that her grandson got his first cut. I ugly cried for 20 minutes all the while blaming my poor mother (sorry, mama!) for forcing me to cut his hair. She did after all let me know on an almost daily basis how crazy Lucas’s hair was getting and to “cut that poor boys hair!”
It’s been 2 days and the short do is growing on me. Another milestone for the books I suppose. I have a ziplock filled with his hair and a certificate to prove it. Long or short hair, forever my baby you’ll be my sweet boy.
