A Laptop Naptime Mama

Tuesday, January 02, 2007


One of my New Year’s resolutions was to sort out Benny’s disheveled and unruly hairdo. Don’t get me wrong. I love his long, flowing locks and I’m not intending to lop them off anytime soon. Unless, of course, Benny demands it. But to be honest, at the moment Benny’s far more concerned with the arrangement of his toy trucks and cars on our windowsill than the arrangement of his parting and chin-length bangs.

But, his free-flowing hair has got a little wispy and ratty at the ends recently (after being dipped in paint, oatmeal, soup, orange juice etc. one too many times) so I decided it was time for a trim. Now, the last time this happened, I braved taking up the scissors myself. After all, who wants to shell out thirty bucks on a haircut for a three year old? Not to mention, the screams and whines that would no doubt ensue if I were to make Benny sit still in a barber’s chair for more than 25 seconds.

I have to say, first time around, I did a pretty good job. I sat Benny in front of Bob the Builder with a bucket load of cheerios and managed to lop off an inch or so of his fine blonde hair. Not only that, my chopping was fairly consistent and the resulting haircut was pretty straight and, I might add, quite dashing.

Even though the results were good, I really should have learnt something from this first foray into hairstyling. I should have learnt that I enjoyed chopping hair rather *too* much. Looking back, I should have been alarmed at how much pleasure I got from the whole experience: the feeling of the comb gliding through his hair; hearing the resounding “snip snip” as I chomped through his silky locks; watching the flutter of fine hair as it fell to the floor.

I should have remembered all this yesterday before thrusting Bob the Builder into the DVD player once again, sitting a hair-washed Benny in front of me, and taking up my gleaming scissors and comb. Of course, I didn’t remember but as soon as I made my first cut, all those joyous feelings rushed back. But, by then it was too late. I had already started and there was no way I was stopping.

Soon I was smiling and snipping, snipping and smiling.

A short while into my pleasurable task, I decided I was doing well enough to try something a little more ambitious. I decided it was time to add layers – just a few around the bottom to achieve that cool shaggy, hipster look. I’d seen my hairdresser cutting layers (back in the days when I had time to get my haircut) and it looked simple enough. Take a lock of hair, hold it at an angle, cut diagonally. Oh yes, and then add some of those feathering vertical snips with a small flourish of the wrist! Easy.

And it was easy. I sat for another ten minutes, snipping, flourishing, and sighing at my good work. When Bob the Builder came to end, Benny started to get restless and so I was forced to hurry the last stages of his haircut. However, when he stood up and began to frolic around, I sat back and admired my work. Still wet, his hair curled very cutely at his neck and around his face and looked, thanks to the trim, healthy and bouncy and, yes, very hip.

However…when Benny awoke from his nap yesterday afternoon, I noticed his hair had dried and flattened. I also noticed my handy work wasn’t quite as skilled as I had first imagined. The layers now looked more like multi-layered clumps. And his long bangs, which used to curl around his chin, now swung like heavy square drapes in front of his nose. I immediately chased after the recently woken Benny and attempted to tease, scrunch, and ruffle his hair to restore it to its earlier hipster-shaggy glory. Benny had had enough hair-fiddling for one day, however, and wouldn’t let me near him.

Things got worse later that evening when we went out to meet Brad. It was cold out, so Benny was forced to wear his woolly hat and by the time I ripped off the hat to reveal my day’s work to Brad, Benny’s hair was apocalyptic – jagged strands across his face, clumps sticking out at funny angles above his collar, and a weird kink somewhere above his right ear. Brad looked on, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Finally, he said, “Nice try, but perhaps we need to take him to the hairdresser.”

Ah well, Benny may have to live with a less hip hairdo for a while, but at least I have learnt my lesson. The hair appointment is now booked and my scissors and comb are locked away. No more “snip snipping” for me.

For more of Joanne Rendell's mommy blogs - including "Fishing for Poo," "Should Mommy's Wear Thongs?" and "What's that dangly thing between his legs?" then Click Here to visit her at the popular website, Get Crafty. To return to the Role Mommy home page, Click Here.


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