… sort of.
Quite a while ago… I think Emery was around one year old… I came home from an outing somewhere and hubby declared, “Oh yeah, and I trimmed Emery’s hair”.
“Yeah, I just trimmed off some of the curls. No big deal.”
Mommas, help me out here… it IS a big deal, right? It was a really minor trim and really didn’t look that different but still, a mother needs to know about these things! There’s the mental preparation for the fact that your baby… your BABY!… is old enough to need a haircut in the first place, the fact that his looks are going to change, and of course you have to save a few curls if you do that sort of thing.
“Did you at least save some of the hair?”
“Well… no, but it’s laying on top in the garbage can”.
So I put a few of those curls into the baby book and that, technically, was his first haircut.
Skip forward to this week and it really was time for Emery’s hair to be cut. Like really cut. It was super cute and blonde and curly but could get kind of wild at times. I was ready for it.
Here it is in Bar Harbor a few weeks ago …
And here he is the morning after what we will call Emery’s first “little boy” haircut.
I’m getting used to it but even three days later I am still shocked at how much it changes his looks. I was with Oliver’s first haircut too though. All of a sudden he doesn’t look like my baby anymore but like a toddler… my little boy. It doesn’t matter that he’s saying all the same words he did yesterday, doing the same things, playing the same way… he’s the same Emery. But cutting that hair off feels like saying goodbye to my baby somehow.
Of course he’s still super cute. And of course he doesn’t give a flying fig as long as I keep the cheerios coming. And I know it’s just hair and all that and the time was going to come around sooner or later.
But somehow it IS a big deal… a really big deal.