Haircut

I got my haircut yesterday––yes, I know, I’m a rebel. Or maybe the person who cut my hair is a rebel. Maybe we both are. Personally, I see nothing criminal about getting a haircut, but the way things are going these days, people are being treated like criminals for a heck of a lot less; just for daring to breathe freely while buying groceries, for example.

But anyway, that’s not what this post is about. Because I went and got my bootleg haircut, my eight-year-old daughter wanted one too. And, because you can’t just go out and get a haircut these day, she wanted me to do it.

Aside from the haircut I gave my two-year-old sister when I was four, and maybe the infamous self-directed bangs that seem to be a rite of passage for all teenage girls, I have never cut hair. What I can appreciate here in this situation is my daughters complete confidence in my ability to give her what she wants. I told her I have basically zero experience in cutting hair and that I had to first see if I even still had the pair of old hairstyling shears which, despite the fact that I never cut hair, I do still have. (Ask me where they came from, I couldn’t really tell you; probably my dad because he seems to think it’s important to be prepared for every situation with items that you would rarely use otherwise––thanks Dad!) Nonetheless, none of these minor attempts to discourage the idea that I should be the one to cut her hair deterred my daughter.

I watched a few videos about how to layer hair and how to cut curly hair, etc. I know a thing or two about taking care of curly hair thanks to my own curls, but I never cut my own hair. However, we are in extraordinary circumstances and I’m sure many people have resorted to experimenting with things they never would have otherwise. One of the beautiful things about this is that I am learning that I am capable of so much more than I have given myself credit for.

So I cut the girls hair. I did it. I decided not to go too short so that we’d have room to get it fixed if I totally botched it. But guess what? It turned out very well! If I had a day-job I wouldn’t be quitting it, as the saying goes. But, my daughter trusted me with her look and I did something new because of it. After I cut it, we washed her hair and I showed her how to properly care for curly hair––because up to this point she would just brush it into a frizz. We washed it with special shampoo to clean it up, then washed it with conditioner to help smooth the frizz. I showed her that a more delicate, smooth towel, or even an old t-shirt to squeeze out the excess water will reduce frizz. We put in a special curl cream and then diffused it. I showed her a whole new routine; it was time just for the two of us. And she gets to go back to school with a “new look” after the Christmas break.

Sometimes, being a mom can feel like a thankless job. But moments like this make me realize how much she values me, my input and the little things I can do to care for her. And that is a gift.