Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath. It’ll grow back. Whatever it looks like, it’s okay. It’s just hair. Agghhhh, but that’s not how I feel. It’s not JUST hair!! Zoey has the most awesome hair. I mean I know I’m a smidge biased, but seriously, I would KILL for hair like hers.
It started out like any other morning. The hubby and I lay (lied???) in bed trying to fend off the kids who woke up too early like they always do.
ME: I’ll bet you guys aren’t big enough to go downstairs and make your own breakfast.
ZOEY: Yes, we are! Holden, let’s go!
HOLDEN: Come with us, Mommy.
ME: No, you guys do it like big kids.
HOLDEN: Noooooooo. I need you!!!!
ME: Come on, Holden, you’re a big boy.
HOLDEN: No, I’m a little boy!!
Seriously?? You bitch and moan whenever I call you little and NOW is the time you choose to embrace it??
ME: Why don’t you guys go play in Zoey’s room and we’ll get up soon?
And holy crap, it’s the miracle of all miracles because they actually listen to me and they go to Zoey’s room to play. And after about ten minutes of trying to fall back asleep which never really works, I finally get up to get ready when suddenly the door to our room slams open.
HOLDEN: Hi, Mom!
ME: Hi, Holden!
I check the wall to make sure the doorknob didn’t go through the wall. Phew, no hole. Seriously, sometimes I wonder whether our walls are made of metal.
HOLDEN: Zoey cut my hair!
And I flip the lights on and holy shit. She sure did.
It’s bad. Not horrible, but definitely not good. Luckily his hair is short and it’ll grow back in about two weeks.
HOLDEN: And she cut hers too.
WHAT???!!! Nooooooooooo!!! OMG, now I’m scared. And fuming. I mean, WTF?!!! Why would she do this without asking?!! I always let her do what she wants when it comes to her hair. Like when she wanted a bob, I let her get one. See?
And when she wanted pink hair in kindergarten, I was like the most awesome mom ever and let her get it dipped.
I even let her wear whatever outfits she wants, even though she looks like a crazy person and people judge me and think I’m insane for letting her walk out of the house like this.
So why is she rebelling when I’ll pretty much let her do whatever she wants within reason?!! If you want your hair cut, kid, just ask me and I will take you to a professional who can do a good job.
I had no idea how bad it would be. I walked down the hall, no wait, I stormed down the hall like a rhinoceros breathing fire and I burst into her room. And this is the first thing I saw.
Holy crap, THAT is a lot of hair. And then I looked at her. Yup, she definitely cut her hair alright. Okay, try not to go apeshit on her. TRY.
ME: (paraphrased because I’m sure I went on wayyyyy longer than this and didn’t sound quite so put together) Zoey, I can’t believe you did this!! You know that’s not okay. And it’s especially not okay to cut Holden’s hair.
ZOEY: I’m sorry.
By now my hubby had joined us too.
HUBBY: But why did you do it, Zoey?
ZOEY: I want to look like a boy.
HUBBY: No, you don’t.
Oh shit, did my hubby just say that?! Noooooooo, honey. You can’t say that!! Because what if she really does want to look like a boy? Although I kind of doubt it because this is the same kid who wore a GIANT pink tutu to school the other day. But still. What if?!!
ME: Zoey, why do you want to look like a boy?
ZOEY: So they’ll like me.
And suddenly it all made sense. This is the year that the boys are starting to play separately from the girls. Not all the time. But a lot. Like last year soccer was coed but now the girls and boys are separate. And whenever I’m at the school playground, I notice the boys are playing gaga and ball and the girls are walking around in little packs talking about God knows what.
HUBBY: Zoey, boys aren’t going to like you more because of a haircut.
ME: If they don’t want to play with you, that’s their problem, not yours. They’re the ones who are missing out. You just keep being awesome and if they want to play with you, great. Got it?
ZOEY: Got it.
I take a good look at her hair.
ME: Well, at least it doesn’t look terrible.
ME: It’s not too too bad.
HUBBY: But you’re still going to be punished.
And then the hubby and I stepped out of the room to decide a punishment.
HUBBY: Should we take away TV?
ME: And punish us too? Hells no. What about her Zippy Sack?
And if you don’t know what that is, it’s the unicorn blanket thingie on her bed.
She just got it a few weeks ago and she LOVVVVVVVES it.
ME AND HUBBY: We’re taking away your Zippy Sack.
ZOEY: For a night?
ME AND HUBBY: For a week.
ZOEY: Noooooooo!!! I’m going to beg for it every day until you give it back.
ME: Every day you beg for it is an extra day you don’t get it.
And the next part nearly killed me to say but I reached deep inside myself for strength and I said it.
ME: In a week when your punishment is over if you still want your hair cut short, we can go get it cut.
Even though it will KILLLLLL me and your father and I’m praying you forget allllll about this in a week.
And then I added this (because I’m wicked smaaaaht).
ME: Or if you want to grow it and donate it, that’s cool too.
ZOEY: Whatta you mean?
ME: If you grow your hair reallllllly long, then you can cut it and give it to another person who doesn’t have hair.
ZOEY: (with tons of passion) I want to do that.
ZOEY: Mom, can I do that?
ME: We’ll see.
And we really will see. Because with this kid, or really any kid, who the hell knows what’ll happen next week.
(and then later that night at dinner)
HUBBY: Who wants to go next? Zoey? What’re your highs and lows today?
ZOEY: My low was when I lost my Zippy Sack. And my high was when Mommy told me my new haircut looks good.
When did I say that?!!! But fine, whatever. I smiled and nodded and then I left the table to go hide every pair of scissors in the house.
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