Each milestone in the kiddos lives brings about all kinds of parental emotions. This weekend was exceptionally challenging. Had a birthday party and an unexpected hair cut.
Birthday’s, in general, I’ve found to be hard because they are so perplexing in both happy and sad emotions. My son turned six. My youngest will be five this summer. My babies are babies no more. I imagine birthdays of the future being just as contradictory.
Tucking Henry into bed the night before his party I told him he was getting too big. He normally likes this. Of course, when you are young you want to be older (and vice versa). I made the mistake of saying something about him being out of the house before I know it. This is my dramatic reaction to him growing up. Unexpectedly, he teared up and told me he never wanted to leave me. Truly melted my heart. He has no idea that he will change his mind in the future. So I smothered him with kisses and told him he didn’t have to (don’t tell Daniel).
Luckily, for my son, his party was everything he hoped for. There was bad weather and some loved ones couldn’t attend. They were greatly missed, but he played, opened gifts and proceeded to be the happy kid he is. He got everything he wanted, to my knowledge.
I always let the kids dictate the event. What kind of theme, where at, what flavor of cake, etc. Henry requested a strawberry cake. I called around, but couldn’t find any power ranger readily available deals so went ahead and made it myself. Anabel has a nut allergy so it is rare the kids get to have awesome decorated cakes. They get stuck with whatever momma can do!
Look at this crew. It is so amazing how much each one has grown and keeps growing. Not that I expect them to stop, but with the relativity of time and the speed in which I sense it increasing as I age is already faster than I’d prefer.
After the party, I was home processing while the kids played. My mom (“Gigi”) and Kayden were at the house also entertaining the kids while I put things away and unpackaged all the gifts for Henry to explore. Most of the time, the kids were in the living room next to me and I assisted with items as they demanded.
Feeling accomplished with all things done, I sit on the couch. I look at my baby who’s hair is in a top bun. I try to keep both the girls hair up anytime they are playing or it is just a knotted mess. Roselyn had bangs hanging in her face. I’ve never cut my kids bangs. Both girls have long hair that when it hits their butt, I cut it up a few inches to get it out of their way for cleanliness reasons. Otherwise, I’d probably just keep letting it grow. Their hair is just so beautiful.
I told Roselyn to come here and held my breathe in anticipation. As I looked at her hair I was just heart broken. A couple of years ago my son cut her hair while it was in a pony tail. I thought that was bad (emotionally). I was able to add layers into her hair and it ended up being no big deal. The shortest layer was heavier, but easily blended with a little time. Henry got in trouble though. Roselyn knows there should be no cutting of hair. Here is the wad of hair found (in the play room) and the cut after those layers.
After that hair cut, I put up the kid craft scissors. I had all the scissors and knifes in this house put up out of reach. Unfortunately, as they get older they march me around to where I have the utensils and tell me they need something cut. I keep their kid scissors at my desk now and they’ll come use them when they are doing crafts and bring them right back. I guess I’ve gotten lazy about the scissors as my trust has grown.
Roselyn denied cutting her hair at first. She was in extra trouble for lying. Then she took Daniel to the basement to the kid scissors to show what she had done. He asked her to get the hair and she brought him a very small amount. I stayed frozen in my seat just trying to gather myself for the haircut I was going to have to give.
The problem is her hair was in a bun. She cut what she thought was a little bit, but nothing came down. So she cut more until she could grasp the fruits of her labor in her tiny hands. It wasn’t until I got her bun down that the terrifying results were clear. All the lose hair that had now slid around was matted in with the attached hair. I readied a bath. Gobs and gobs of hair came out. I guess I should consider myself lucky she didn’t cut the whole bun off.
I wasn’t strong. I tried to be, but I cried a little. I wanted to cry a lot more. I cannot describe the anguish it caused me to take the scissors and cut off 10+ inches of hair. It was more like I was cutting the umbilical cord of her childhood off.
Roselyn was sad that I was upset. I’m not sure she cared anything about cutting her hair. Roselyn had told me previously she wanted to have a hair cut like mine. I told her how beautiful her hair is and that I’d grow mine out to be more like hers. Seemingly not good enough.
From a distance, the mangy spots from the kid shears aren’t visible. I’ll just have to keep trimming up the bob while the top grows. Apparently I should have just given her the hair cut initially. She now has a shaggy a-line bob with swoopy bangs trying to blend the scalped two inches of her head. Her teacher at school said she participated way more than normal with her new do. A good new haircut can provide confidence to even the youngest lady. Little bit can rock anything with her sassy personality.