On Saturday morning we took baby J to get his first haircut. We went to a place that specifically caters toward children and has toys in the waiting area, airplanes and cars for seats, and movies playing. Baby J loved the toy train, and that is where the love ended. We had three things against us already before we even walked in. Baby J does not like to sit high up unless he is in our lap (he recently got the whole “height” thing and now he just isn’t sure about being high up unless he thinks he has total control of the situation), he doesn’t like to be strapped into a seat (but he usually gets over it), and he really does not like me brushing his hair.
And so J’s name is called and we sit him in the really cool car with a steering wheel, that is high up (strike 1!) with a seat belt (strike 2!) and he starts getting worried and starts complaining. And THEN the hairstylist wets down his hair and COMBS it! Oh no! Enter J screeching and throwing his back followed with big big tears. The poor lady, who looked to be in her late 2nd trimester, early 3rd, was so super patient with J. I kept apologizing over and over. We did everything we could think of, offered him cheerios, offered to let him play with our phones, watch cartoons on our phones, you name it. Each thing distracted him long enough until he felt the lady touching his hair again to trim it. Poor baby J. Poor hair stylist. Poor momma and dadda. And seriously, poor everyone else in the place trying to get a haircut in peace. The little girl next to baby J was getting her first haircut too. She was super quiet and even smiled for her “first haircut picture”. We got J’s picture in between screams. *sigh*
Once we got home J crashed for a long nap and this momma went to her bedroom for a cry herself. My baby J lost his curls in a traumatic hair cut session. I may not be so against the whole growing the hair out for a while thing. I mean, you never know, 50/50 chance those cute curls may come back.