Hallelujah and hooray -- a no-howl haircut

I did a little gig today sitting at the neighbourhood beauty parlour. Sonny Boy had his hair cut without much protest. Yipeee! I'm finally there. Now THIS is a milestone in my toddler's development.

All you moms whose kids just sat quiet at the first cut, congrats, you lucky bums!

But I had to wait these live long two years for him to understand that the lady with the smile and scissors wasn't going to cut off his ears or head. I couldn't figure out what his problem was at all. I don't think he could figure out what his problem was with having his hair cut. Except, that he didn't want it cut at all.

As it is, I take him to the parlour so rarely -- i wait till the hair grows into his ears and i can put little pigtails on his sideburns and a million other pigtails on his head. Not that he'll allow a rubberband anywhere near him. That's just how I measure my life -- in rubberbands, and not in coffee spoons.

I dreaded going to the parlour  because I felt like some Sumo wrestler. The sweet aunty at my parlour who consented to do the cut was always cheerful. But I pitied her because she was always so worried she would nick or cut him. And she always felt bad because he looked like a little red tomato, mid-cut, from all his protests and howling, with tears streaming down the face mixed with a sprinkling of hair.

The first time round, when i sat with him on my lap, he so freaked out and kicked and trashed about, five aunties at the parlour had to hold on to him. (I didn't have the guts to cut his hair at home. I tried showing him another kid who was getting his hair cut....but nothing really prepared him for his first.) I always take him at non rush-hour times (on week days) when there's no other customer around who'll be petrified at the sight or will perhaps, chide me for being bad mom, or him for being a bad boy.

With each cut, the strength with which he protested and the extent to which he protested came down gradually.
Even this morning, as I prepared him, he started whining and then quickly did his "I don't want a haircut" bawl. He even made a last-ditch attempt to tide over the situation by promising me he'll have his hair cut with grandpa. (Knowing how soft grandpa feels when he sees him cry, they'll probably run out of the men's salon even before the cut). Which is why he wanted top go with grandpa!!

After he was tucked into the little cape, he cried for a minute and then suddenly said "It doesn't hurt!" in such shock and surprise. Gawwwd it took him so many cuts to realise no one was killing him.

But honestly, was just thinking, how it must appear to the tiny li'l tot -- this whole unnecessary exercise of cutting hair -- with these large people looming over him, smiling and grinning, holding things he's forbidden from touching. Must be instilling some strange fears in them. Poor things.

But we've done it today. Hoooraaaay and yipeeeeee. Hopefully, he'll continue his "good boy" and "big boy" act at the next salon appointment too. Maybe next time, grandpa can take him to the men's salon.