I have been dragging my feet about the whole hair-cutting thing.
Sure, I've trimmed Archer's locks once or twice but I've never sat down
to give him a bonafide haircut.
Any new parent knows that a haircut is so much more than
just a haircut. It's this weird new world of non-babydom. Where hair
grows like a weed and there is nothing you can do to stop it. Even
though it seems too soon. Too soon for haircuts and size 9 shoes and 3T
clothes. How is he already in a 3T? HOW!?
First or even second or third haircuts are a hard pill to swallow for some parents. Myself included. And I'm pretty sure Kate Hudson knows what I'm talking about.
Today
I bit the bullet and decided it was time to cut Archer's hair. Because
it seemed like maybe it was bothering him, falling down in his face as
I pushed him on the swing. One hand on the chain, the other in his
face, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.
Archer in "The Before."
It
took about an hour to get it right, carefully snipping little bits at a
time as not to stab him with the scissors. Trying to distract him with
the television as I scurried around him on my knees.
The whole time I kept shaking my head, muttering to myself like a mad woman.
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