I can't call it a total loss, but there's no way I can consider it a solid victory either. To tell this tale~and add a more rosy gloss to the experience~I'll let the hipstamatic prints do some of the talking.
I located a Pigtails & Crewcuts in Covington, and as soon as the little guy woke from his nap we headed there.
I'd hoped since the atmosphere was completely child-friendly my son would be at ease.
And for the ten minutes we were waiting, he was.
He had a ball assembling train tracks and creating a line of trains to steer back and forth. He was happy as could be.
And when it was his turn, he cheerfully chose the fire engine as his seat, then settled in.
I foolishly let out a little breath of relief thinking all would be fine. What was I thinking? From two and a half years of experience I should have known better. But he was so content to turn the wheel and ring the bell. He didn't even mind his stylist puttering around him. It seemed this was going to be a quick and easy hair cut.
Like I said, I should have known better.
The shoe dropped the moment the scallywag's stylist pulled out the cape. Suddenly the fire engine was a trap and the stylist and I were the villains who had lured him there.
Parenthood, my dears, is the most humbling job on earth. And at times it's embarrassing as all get out. It is these rare moments when my son's inner Tasmanian Devil makes an appearance that I realize how little control I have at times. If my strong-willed, very vocal and opinionated son doesn't like something, he is going to say it with a very loud, "NO!"
The scallywag is a gift from Heaven, there's no doubt about it. But he is my child that requires the most patience, the most exercise in self-control, the most guidance, and the most discipline. And it is constant.
We were spoiled with Eldest and are learning all over again how to be parents. It's amazing how different two children can be in temperment, but I know these attributes that we struggle with now will be positive and wonderful things as my son grows older.
He will do great things using his voice, and be steadfast in his convictions thanks to his strong-will. It will just require lots of love and prayer to get him there.
I was doing all sorts of silent praying during bebe's haircut. The stylist tried to reassure me that he was just fine~not half as bad as many of the young ones who came in. Her nephew, she confided, was the same age, knew her very well, yet was much worse when it came to sitting for her.
How sweet was she? Even if what she said wasn't true, I appreciated the gesture.
"He'll grow out of it. Give it time," she said kindly.
That she was saying this while my son bobbed and weaved with the practiced ease of a prize-fighting boxer gave me a little hope. The haircut distractions in my bag also helped a bit.
For the most part, though, there was lots of loud protesting and wiggling around. Nothing much soothed the little guy for very long.
I'm kind of hoping that the day where my son sits still without a care during his haircut comes very soon. Otherwise he's going to end up with haircuts that would best suit a Vulcan.
Not kidding even a little.
I take comfort this has bought us a little time until his next cut. That, and when giving me a kiss goodnight he whispered, "I love you, Mama."
Obviously all is forgiven.
I suppose this means things ended on a positive note after all, right?
I'll take it.