They had a hair salon role play station at preschool this week. Usually these stations have little effect on our home life, but Cinderella-worshipping, dress-wearing Rose was VERY interested in it. She kept coming home saying she wanted her hair cut and that she wanted it cut “short” like mine.
Rose has thick beautiful dark long hair. It falls a few inches below her shoulders. It’s one of her best features. Every single day I look at her hair with envy. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever been able to accomplish with my own thin, fine, straight brown hair. I firmly believe that kids should be allowed to choose how they dress and do their hair (within reason), but I do NOT want her hair cut right now. I feel like we’ve been working toward getting SOMEONE’S hair to look like this for years. Why destroy perfection? Why?
Not the best picture of Rose, but for some reason my latest pictures don’t do her hair justice. This one shows some of the volume and length I love.
I know hair grows back and I would get her hair cut for her if she really wanted it, but NO! NO!
So I called my mother to complain about this. She was also against cutting Rose’s beautiful hair and plotted with me to figure out a way to convince Rose not to get a haircut. I know I’m the one who has to drive her to the salon and pay for it, but I don’t want to keep her from a haircut if that’s what she truly wants.
My mom said I should point out that Cinderella has long hair. The trouble is, Cinderella doesn’t actually have long hair. Her hair is shoulder-length like mine. When Cinderella is dolled up for the ball, she puts her hair in a bun and it looks even shorter!
First I showed Rose that my hair is getting longer and is almost as long as hers. For most of her life my hair has been chin-length, but now it is just past my shoulders. Rose was slightly swayed in her haircut obsession, but said she still wanted it short. Then I told her Cinderella has long hair.
“No she doesn’t! It’s short when she goes to the ball!” said Rose.
When I told her that Cinderella’s hair was just pulled back for the ball, she was really surprised. I showed her how I could pull up my own hair and make it look short and offered to do the same for her.
And suddenly the girl doesn’t want a haircut.
I almost cut off my daughter’s beautiful hair when all she really wanted was an updo.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Rose keeps putting on a pair of sunglasses and insisting that we all look at her. “Look at me, I’m Santa Claus!” she yells gleefully.
I never realized Santa Claus wore sunglasses.
I’ve seen many pictures of Santa Claus wearing eyeglasses, but very few of him in sunglasses. Has there been a Christmas in July commercial on lately that I haven’t noticed with Santa in sunglasses? Who knows.
She might mean something else entirely though. She often gets her terms mixed up. In addition to her recently using the word “rip” for “boo boo” or “cut”, she also insists that her bandage is really called a “headband”. “Look at my headband! I have a boo-boo!”
If only Rose would wear a real headband. Then we could get rid of her bangs! Oh well. Maybe someday. (I have a severe aversion to bangs. I might be allergic to them. It’s been VERY difficult to deal with toddler girls who hate barrettes when I have such a bang aversion. No one looks good with bangs. No one. Not even you. People might be telling you your new haircut with bangs looks awesome, but I’m here to tell you you look better without them. All of you. No matter what. TRUST ME. Also, get out of that baggy ’80s shirt and skinny jeans. You look stupid.)
Huh, how did that post about my (Jewish) child claiming she is Santa Claus become mostly a rant about the evilness of bangs and skinny jeans?
I wonder if she even knows who Santa Claus is? Yes, Santa came to visit us this year, but that was more than 6 months ago and she was newly 2 years old. Does she remember that?
And this all-over-the-place post is the kind of thing you get from me after a day of road tripping with three children, one of whom is only 7 weeks old. I promise something more coherent for tomorrow, presuming fussy butt allows me to put her down long enough to make a post.
It would be one thing if this happened just once, but I gave a Vulcan haircut to Lily several times as well. I just need to call it quits. I can not cut bangs. They always end up 2 inches shorter than my goal. How does it happen? I’m sure the squirming kids don’t help, but I go in for a fraction of an inch and come away with inches and inches gone.
Professional trims only from here on out. I didn’t even want her to have bangs, but she rejects ponytails most days and the messy hair was driving me crazy. But nowhere near as crazy as her current Vulcan look.