As a Mom, checking off milestones are exciting events. First tooth, first step, first word; each a clue to deciphering the whole person that this little child will grow into. A milestone is a secret little celebration that parents are privy to because they have been given this little life to mould.
But I had a hard time accepting one of our most recent milestones.
My baby wasn’t born bald, he was blessed with an already memorable hairstyle. He had a mohawk… and a skullet… and that’s it. A tuft on top and a tuft near his neckline. It was precious if not a little strange. I loved it.
Cameron’s hair grew, albeit slowly at first. As I look at even relatively recent photos, I am still amazed at how little hair Cam had. But sometime between his first birthday and now, my son’s hair grew. We started sweeping his bangs to the side, tucking hair behind his ears, and fingering his curls.
I loved those curls. My baby had ringlets! How quintessentially precious. But when his hair was long enough to put into a ponytail, the husband started to complain.
“Time for a haircut!” Dan declared. “He has a mullet! Also? He is mistaken for a girl – often!”
But I knew that once we cut, those curls would be gone.
Forever.
Cutting a baby’s hair is one of the first times we close a chapter as a parent. Akin to packing up all those newborn clothes, cutting this baby hair is saying goodbye to those first locks I laid my eyes on when I first held my child in my arms. It is watching that hair, which once held that newborn smell, fall to the ground and eventually be swept away. And suddenly, as those fresh baby curls fall away, where once sat my baby, a little boy emerges.
Accepting this growth is not easy for a mother; at least, it was not easy for me.
But we did it. It was time. So I ensured this event was as big of a to-do as it possibly could be. I refused to allow my husband and his clippers near my son like Dan had suggested. Instead, I made an appointment at a children’s salon and “splurged” ($25) for the baby’s first haircut package.
I didn’t cry. Not even a little. I was strong and supportive for my little man while he moved through this huge milestone – even while those little curls fell off. And sitting in that little red car at the end of this experience was my little boy.
Babies aren’t supposed to be babies forever. Sometimes it is just a little difficult for a mother to watch this transformation. But being a part of these milestones create some of the most incredible memories.
