Saturday, February 15, 2014


As so often happens during hair appointments, I got to talking with Nana's stylist, D, (who so graciously took me on for my big haircut) yesterday. Eventually Abby- with her fine, wispy, had-earned head of hair- came up in conversation. Nana, who was sitting nearby and keeping me company, expressed her desire to finally see it get cut. Like Mima, it's been causing her distress to see the uneven, unkempt strands stray further and further beyond the end of her earlobes. Wise grandmothers that they both are, they knew all too well just how adorable their little ray of sunshine could potentially look in a bob.

I didn't disagree, but I've spent every day of the last three years (and some months) watching my oldest baby struggle to grow all of that hair, and I haven't been ready to see it altered in any way. I've stalled and made excuses. However, the instant excitement produced by the suggestion that perhaps D should be the one to give the first haircut finally swayed me. I knew that I could potentially make a lot of people happy with one little decision (which had to be made eventually) so I tentatively agreed. "Bring her by anytime tomorrow!" I was told. "No need to even make an appointment!"

I spent the afternoon considering it, wondering how best to go about "stopping by" without interrupting anything. However, when Aunt Ali made a last-minute appointment with D for the next morning, I knew that there was no getting around the inevitable. We popped the car seat into Ali's car as soon as she pulled it into the driveway on her way to the salon, and took a group field trip there.

Abby was incredibly calm, and so brave. She sat perfectly still through her beauty session, though I could see at times that she was rather skeptical of the whole process.

Though I could now come up with any number of amusing captions to accompany the second two photos based on the faces she was making, I was amazed at the time to see how still she kept herself, with nary a complaint apart from her initial distress over having a drape put on.

She remained quiet and uncomplaining through most of Ali's appointment as well, crying only when she had the misfortune to drop her last bit of bagel onto the hair-covered floor, never to be seen again. She also took great umbrage with the fact that there was hair being dropped in the first place, but I assured her that this was par for the course in hair salons like the one we were visiting.

Once we got back to Nana and Papa's, the coat was taken off and the tenacious little girl was free to be herself again, I finally got a good look at the new 'do. It was quite something to behold the transformation in my toddler-going-on-big girl. Based on appearance alone, she was clearly a toddler no more.

For Abby's part, though the experience has given her a fresh source of pride and a new story to tell, it's had no major effect on how she sees herself.

In fact, I'd say- if anything- she's been rocking that bob since the salon drape slipped off her little shoulders hours ago.

For me, it's still taking some getting used to.

To be fair, though, I'm still getting used to my own little act of bravery from yesterday. But just give me some time, and I know we'll soon both be rocking our new looks, together.