I’ll be the first to admit, I thought I knew all I needed to know, before I had a child, about raising a child. Oh, unlike Sway I had ALL the answers to parenting and was certain when the time came for me to become a mother I’d have the ish in the bag. Wrong. WRONG!
First thing I had wrong was assuming that my pregnancy would be What to Expect perfect–the lie detector test determined that was a lie. Next, I just automatically assumed that my baby would have this amazing Maxwell-ish afro with curls that glistened from unrefined coconut oil and love–sheeiiit. While my little’s hair is gorgeous, the work that I had to put into it is way more than I was used to. So, on a balmy Saturday morning, after a knock down drag out fight over me picking his tightly coiled ‘fro, I logged onto StyleSeat and found the closest barbershop that had an opening for the day. And here’s how that went down…
The barbershop that I chose was about 20 minutes away from my home and only had a late afternoon appointment open with the only barber that specialized in cutting toddler’s hair…I took it. When we arrived for his appointment, his barber made a point to try to ease my nerves. I already knew that he would be hysterical; however, I hadn’t realized just how frightened he was…until he pooped.
You ever get so scared that you get the bubble guts? So scared that you are literally with the shits? If not, consider yourself lucky, but I know the feeling and I could tell that Amir was so scared, his bowels had turned against him. I felt horrible and almost snatched my baby up and ran for the car. The look in his eye told me that he’d never forgive me for this, but I pushed through.
Once I got him cleaned up he calmed down just long enough for us to get him in the chair. Initially, the barber thought he’d be able to sit by himself (I knew that wasn’t happening, but I entertained him) and then quickly switched to Plan B when he tried to pick his hair and Amir grabbed his hand with the might of 400 one-year olds. He quickly asked me to sit in the barber chair and hold him on my lap–yeah, that’s what I thought.
Parents, I don’t know if every child is as strong as my little, but Jesus! Preemie my a%$! He pushed and he pulled and he squirmed through the first five to ten minutes of the haircut–I knew I was going to have to tip this man 1/2 of my 401k for his efforts. After he was able to cut off the majority of the hair, Amir finally calmed down long enough for the barber to even it out a bit.
The result…a dark caesar that both he and I were meh about. I mean, I had visions of a Nasir Jones with 360° waves and a half-moon part dancing in my head. It took him awhile to get used to not having his hair as he’d grown accustomed to twirling his coils while watching Blaze and the Monster Machines. I imagine this is how Samson felt when he woke up ponytail-less.
He has since gone back a couple more times and I’ve even had his barber fade the sides a bit, which I LOVE, so we’re getting there and he is starting to enjoy his trips to the barbershop.
Anyway, that’s our story, what was your little’s first time at the barber/salon like? I’d love to know if anyone else’s experience was as traumatic as ours.