Best not to opperate SHEARS while sleep deprived
The Boy's hair baffles me.
As many of you know, I have naturally curly hair. Very naturally curly hair. After many long years of practice, trial, error and some truly horrific experiments, I have figured out how to deal with curly hair.
The Boy's hair is so completely straight that I have no idea what to do with it. It's straight, it's fine, and there's a lot of it. The consequence is that it tends to be, well, not to put too fine a point on it, it's shaggy. All the time.
And I feel a little like Uncle Vernon because it seems like I'm always looking at him and thinking, "We need to cut your hair!"
Since I'm too cheap to bring myself to pay $10 for a haircut for him, I've been trying to learn how to do it myself. Not being overly coordinated, this has proved a bit of a challenge.
Some months are better than others. Some months, you almost can't tell that a complete amateur cut his hair. And other months? Other months...it's painfully obvious that an amateur has cut his hair. And then there are the occasional months...those months, well, they usually end in a BUZZ.
At least I'm off the percoset, right? So all I can really blame this on is chronic sleep deprivation and my own impatience.
I set about cutting his hair last week. One side turned out GREAT! You almost couldn't tell that a complete amateur had cut that side of his hair! But the other side? Oh dear. The other side looked like I had attempted to cut his hair with gardening shears. It was choppy and fantastically uneven.
So over the course of the next THREE DAYS, I snipped and trimmed and futzed with his hair. All in vain attempts to make the other side look as good as the first side. I remain puzzled by the reality that all that snipping and trimming and futzing really didn't FIX anything. All it did was make that poor other side SHORTER.
I finally admitted defeat and buzzed the poor Boy's hair. I'm torn. The tactile side of me just LOVES running my hands over buzzed heads. It's one of the side benefits of Chris keeping his head shaved. But the mother in me, just hates it! He looks so...OLD. So grown up! Such a big Boy. I want my baby back. With the wispy blond hair and the chubby arm folds.
And yet...I also don't. I love my Boy. He's tall and gangly, and he absolutely NEVER stops talking. But he's so imaginative and clever and funny. I wouldn't trade him for the world.
Labels: The Boy
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