It took me a long time to decide when Brock should get his first hair cut. Was I going to be sentimental about it? Would I hold out until his first birthday? Sometime in month 11, it had to be done. In lieu of the $20 children's salon up the road, I scoured the internet for some instructions, bought some hair cutting scissors at Walmart, and decided to give it a try. I put him in a high chair, popped in a DVD, and gave him some toys. No dice. As soon as my fingers touched his hair he started pushing them away, squirming, and eventually screaming. I chopped off the back between screams and called it a day. A few days later, I tried again. I got a few snips around the sides. That's it. We made another attempt later that week with the same results. Later, I enlisted a helper who held him while I cut. I got a few clips at his bangs, and then he was absolutely finished with it. More screaming. I had just about given up on finishing the hair cut when I noticed one day that he let me run my fingers through his hair while he was playing in the bathtub. The rest is history.
 |
No comments:
Post a Comment