Let me just start with saying I need a vacation. I need a solid three or four days of blissful silence, moderately warm or sunny weather, no work, no screaming baby, no commuting on the bus, no messy house, and a fully stocked kitchen (including wine or beer…nah, both).
The last several weeks have been more difficult than usual. The kid seems to be going through an extra special phase which consists mostly of screaming, temper tantrums, ultra sweet cheesy phases (sprinkled in merely to throw you off guard when the next screaming or tantrum phase commences). I have to say…it ain’t my fave.
We were all overdue for haircuts and Christi and I, wise women that we are, decided
today last Sunday was the day to give Lincoln his first styled haircut.
It started out smoothly and went from cool to catastrophe in about 30 seconds. I got about 5 or 6 “before” and “getting started” photos to document this milestone and then the camera was set aside. The next 3 minutes felt like about 20, fidgeting, screaming, pushing everyone’s hands away – he was just not having it. Poor Adam, with whom we’ve had a very comfortable LTR with our hairs, did his best. We got about 90% of the left and back side of his head buzzed, about 60% of the right sight, and we just couldn’t take it any more.
Here is a picture from the beginning of the haircut. We still had high hopes at this point.
We left without fixing the haircut. Lincoln took a nice and peaceful nap on the drive home. The moms rallied and pulled out our personal clipper set to get to work correcting.
Below is what I like to call “the low point”…. Although, technically, the actual low point didn’t come out well. Those pictures were too blurry. (I may or may not have been laughing and crying.)
Here, another kind of low point (about 10 seconds later)….
In the end, dropping him in the highchair, giving him a movie (“Frozen”), and “ah-bo” (avocado) seemed to do the trick. It still looks like a bit like his big sister cut his hair with cardboard scissors, but at least it was free of charge. Poor Adam did not charge for the failed attempt at the salon. (We tipped him anyway…just for the unwelcomed anxiety.)
Ah well. Memories, right?