There are moments when I catch my reflection and think, “Not too shabby.” Then there are days when I glimpse myself while scrubbing the toilet or wiping toothpaste off the sink and cringe, wondering how I ever left the house looking like that. Unfortunately, it’s usually the latter scenario that plays out.
Nothing jolts me into a realization of my suburban mom style like a bad haircut. Thankfully, I have a stylist who works wonders on my hair every three months, giving me a fabulous look for about 12 hours. But trust me, I’ve experienced my share of unfortunate haircuts—haven’t we all? The infamous “Haircut From Hell” is a common experience for many children, and at some point, every parent is bound to face the unexpected aftermath of a 4-year-old getting a little too adventurous with a pair of scissors.
As a mother of two boys, I thought I might escape the tears and drama associated with the Haircut From Hell. But, of course, that wasn’t the case.
A few years back, I took my eldest son, Liam, to a local salon for his routine trim. He prefers to keep his hair longer, and I tend to drag my feet on this task, so we only manage to schedule haircuts twice a year. He grumbles and whines, and I remind him that personal hygiene is important, which includes occasional haircuts to deal with split ends.
Once he settled into the chair, we began our usual “just a trim” speech to the stylist. I took my younger son, Noah, to a different chair and sat near him as he also got a trim. Moments later, the stylist leaned over and quietly said to me, “I think Liam isn’t too happy.”
Of course, he wasn’t. He never enjoys getting his hair cut, but when I approached him, I saw the tears streaming down his face—big, fat sobs that shook his tiny frame.
“Just a trim! We said just a trim!” he hissed through his hiccups. The meltdown was in full swing right there in the middle of the salon. I could empathize with his distress; the stylist had taken off way more than just a little bit of his precious golden waves. I was on the verge of tears myself.
He continued crying, his tears flowing as we drove home, and I tried to console him. “I know it’s tough, buddy, but we’ve all experienced a bad haircut,” I said.
“No! No one has ever had a haircut this horrible! I want my old hair back!” he shouted.
“Trust me, we all have had a bad haircut at some point. I know I have,” I replied.
“No! Nothing this terrible! You’re lying, Mom!”
“Well, at least you didn’t lose a limb,” I suggested, hoping to provide some perspective, but it didn’t help.
Once we arrived home, he dashed upstairs, pulling his hood over his head and hiding in his room. A friend came over soon after, but Liam wouldn’t even come out to say hello.
“I don’t want him to see me! I can’t show my face. I’m never going back to school!” he protested.
“I think he needs some space,” I whispered to his friend.
My husband tried to lift Liam’s spirits with some humor derived from his own bald head, but what ultimately coaxed our son out from his hiding place was the age-old wisdom: “It’ll grow back.”
I wish I could claim that was the end of the tears over Liam’s hair, but that wouldn’t be accurate. Fast forward 18 months, and after growing his hair out again, he decided he wanted a shorter style.
“Are you really sure about this?” I asked repeatedly, worried about a repeat of the previous disaster.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he insisted.
After much convincing, we returned to the same salon where his previous tears were shed. The stylist cut off a hefty 6 to 8 inches, leaving a pile of his golden curls on the floor.
As I looked at the heap of hair, I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. I was struck by how much he had changed, transforming from a little boy into a young tween. Who was this growing child? Would he still be the same person in the future? I was having an existential moment in a salon, and tears threatened to spill.
Yet, as I glanced up, the wide grin on his face stopped my tears cold.
“I love it!” he exclaimed. “I absolutely love it, Mom!”
If he’s happy, then I’m happy, I thought. He looked handsome as ever.
As we navigate this new phase of tweendom (and soon, the teenage years—yikes!), I realize that sometimes I’ll have to lead, and sometimes, I’ll need to follow. So, I smiled and said, “I’m so glad you like it. It looks great,” all while thinking, “it’ll grow back.”
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Summary
Kids’ haircuts often bring about unexpected emotions, from excitement to heartbreak. As parents, we find ourselves navigating these experiences, learning to empathize and support our children through the trials of hair transformations. Whether it’s a bad haircut or a new style, the journey is filled with ups and downs that shape our family dynamics.