My friends, I need just a moment of your time here.
I'm in crisis.
Ok, maybe CRISIS is slightly a strong word, but I'm having a really hard personal time here. No, no one's hurt. No, I feel fine. Yes, all my children are fine...
IF FINE ENTAILS CUTTING A HUGE CHUNK OF HAIR OUT OF THE BACK OF YOUR HEAD...
...then they are all fine.
Please let me elaborate.
I have to tell you that I've always been afraid of my kids cutting their own hair, because I realize I have been cursed. Growing up, we had a friend who's little sister cut her own bangs up to the scalp. It was the summer time and we all went to the same pool and it was quite the joke until they grew back out. Once I had my own children, I realized that, by laughing at that poor child when I was only just a child, I was cursing myself to experience a similar fate with one of my own children.
So I decided to take the Sleeping Beauty approach and banish all scissors. Or keep them really high. That was the plan.
Stop laughing...I KNOW you know how the story ends here, but let me tell it. This is my therapy. Along with wine...lots of wine...
I keep a pair of scissors in our bathroom because SOMETIMES I need a pair upstairs to cut tags of clothes or something like that and I keep them up on the top shelf in the cabinet above our toilet. I'm just telling you this so you know that I'm not negligent and leave them out...my child is a ninja.
So today, I was reading nap time stories to Rachel and I could hear Elizabeth upstairs and just knew from the foot tread that she was up to no good. I called for her and down she came and ran in the other room to color. Carrying Rachel up to her bed, I noticed a ton of dog hair all over the floor.
"Holy cow, the dogs are shedding a ton," I thought and vowed to haul the Kirby upstairs after the kids woke up. Coming out of Rachel's room, I noticed a perfect little curl on the floor.
I realize my investigative pictures look like something out of My Cousin Vinny, but if you could see past all those designs on the dirty, 80's linoleum, you would see little brown ringlets.
Upon seeing her hair in the trash can, I sprinted downstairs to find my oldest.
"Elizabeth, did you cut your hair?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered, not even looking up from her coloring book.
"I had a bump in my hair that I needed to get."
Turns out my child had given herself a reverse mullet to combat that bump. Good thinking, kid.
I'm not doing ok with this, if you must know, and I haven't the foggiest idea what to do next. My kids don't really grow hair. It has taken forever to get it this long and we've loved doing braids and pony tails and buns. So do I take her to a beautician to cut it up to the shortest part in a little bob or do I make her live in a pony tail until it grows back out...which could LITERALLY be a couple years?
She doesn't want to get it cut, but she also can't see the back or really understand what she's done. And I can see myself in a little puddle in the beauty shop as my baby's perfect little soft hair gets cut up short.
So help me, my friends. Please let me know that I'm not the only one in this boat and then give me wisdom as to next steps. I'm hoping a couple miles on the treadmill might give me some insight.