"Mommy, I cut my hair!" is NOT the phrase a mother wants to hear her 4 year old say. Well, guess what I heard this morning - yep - just that. She said "Mommy, I don't need to go to Ms. Debbie's now, I cut my hair". Ms. Debbie is my hairdresser, who sometimes trims my 4 year old's hair. As you can see from the blog photos, my daughter had long, straight, blonde hair - completely opposite of mine. When I was lucky enough to have long hair when I was young, it was always frizzy, wavy or curly. I say lucky enough because for some reason, my older sisters always seemed to convince my mom that I "needed" a short haircut. I don't know if that was meanness or did they really think I needed short hair? I always wanted my hair to be long. When I was 5 years old living in the white house (as I called it) at Kingsley Field AFB in Klamath Falls, Oregon, yes, I remember that far back one of my friends who lived at the end of the block on McGuire Street, Kirsten, had long hair. Kirsten wore it in a pony tail and it pounced just like a horses tail when she ran. I wanted a pony tail so I could run like a pony! So you immediatly think that is why my daughter's hair is long? Nope, that's not why. I cut a few inches off last winter and just didn't like it. Plus, she's in ballet, so she really "needs" long hair. Plus, it's the style right now.
So back to the haircut. I asked her if she cut her hair, and she rather sheepishly said no and walked away. I was calmly taking visual inventory and didn't see any gaping holes that I hear other parents talk about and show photos of, so so far so good. Then I saw it. It wasn't too bad. She had taken a piece from the crown of her head and pulled it at her eye level (about 5 inches from the root) and cut it. Not too much damage. relief!!! So we went to the table and there it was, 5 inches of beautiful, straight, blonde soft hair, lying on the floor. I picked it up and told her how sad the hair was that it didn't get to be on her head anymore. I didn't scold her. Now, in case you are wondering why a four year old had scissors - well, it's my fault. I let her scrapbook at the table yesterday, along with stamps and ink. She's really quite responsible for a four year old - but I should have put up the scissors. I learned that lesson last year when she cut holes in my brand new Gulf Shores souvenier t-shirt that I had for about 2 weeks. I got it at the Shark Store - her favorite store from the trip. I never buy t-shirts, so I was so sad about the holes. It was then that I hid all the scissors.
Meanwhile - I took my daughter to school today and when I took her out of her carseat, she said "But - I want to go to Ms. Debbies". See, I explained to her that only Ms. Debbie can cut hair because Ms. Debbie has special hair scissors and we only have paper scissors. Then after school, she still insisted on going. So now I am trying to explain to her what an apointment is.