The Bug’s hair is long and flowing. It’s been long and flowing since the day she entered the world. And while everyone swore that it would fall out, it’s done anything but. It’s continued to grow like a weed, finally weighing it down so as to lose the au natural mohawk. <Tear> My little hipster now just looks like an awkward baby Beetle. And we’re on our way to baby mullet. Oh yeah, business in the front, PARTY in the back. And by party, I mean a rattail, but the 80s are TOTALLY making a comeback. She is SO in vogue- ahead of the trend.
It’s gotten so long and flowing that it has begun to fall into her eyes, causing many a blinking and lots of feeble attempts to pin it back and away from the offended eyeballs. You attempt to barrett back a wee babe’s fine, silky hair while she squirms and wiggles and protests. It’s like a game of greased watermelon but with hair and without the Crisco. So kind of a bad analogy, but you get the idea.
It ain’t easy.
James has been encouraging me to cut it for some time, claiming that I am causing the Bug much trauma by forcing her to deal with bangs in her face. I’ve resisted, because who honestly cuts a five-month old’s hair?
Probably parents with hairy babies but details.
Then my dad came into town, and he jumped on the cut-the-Bug’s-locks bandwagon, offering additional peer pressure and sympathy for my POOR, LONG SUFFERING, hair-in-eyes child. How could I be so cruel?! I might as well club a baby seal. It would be LESS deleterious.
So I began to feel like Cruella Deville, proposing to make puppy skin coats out of our family’s ancient Dalmatian while my cousin IT babe looked on. The guilt was profound and I’m not even JEWISH! Or Catholic!
So I caved.
And because it is impossible to cut a five-month old baby’s hair before she can properly sit up right sans assistance without causing the loss of an appendage, I did it while breastfeeding. As in, when she was horizontal, on my bare boob, offering to pierce my nipples while I wielded sharp scissors. Needless to say, it was a scene. The Bug may have swallowed some of her own hair thanks to the snow-fall of locks during snack time, and the cut may be anything but even.
If I were her, I would DEMAND my money back.
James kept swearing that it wasn’t THAT bad- until I sent a picture to my mother and sister who threw a fit. HOW COULD I DO THAT TO MY BABY?! Turn her into a little Dutch Boy, except even MORE awkward. As though that were possible.
I left it up to my babysitter to gauge the damage. She hadn’t seen Addison in two weeks, and this morning when she arrived I didn’t mention what I had done. Not five minutes went by, and I hear, Hey Ashley? Did you cut Addison’s bangs?
Every gal’s gotta go through one bad haircut, right? RIGHT?!
(I promise I’ll attach a picture- my laptop from the Jurassic era is having a mini-meltdown so give me a couple days to coax her back to health. And in the meantime, refer to above Dutch boy image. It gives you a sense of what we’re dealing with).