Sunday, March 11, 2012

On the Lighter Side

Jeez, this blog has been heavy for the last few weeks.  I am getting so sick of my own lamenting. So today?  Today we are keeping it light.

On Sunday we took the kids to the National Building Museum (which is AWESOME if you're in the area and have never been).  All was well and good until another mom looked down at Casey, smiled, and turned to me and said:

"How adorable.  How old is she?"

SHE is a boy, bitch!

No, I didn't say that.  Though I have to admit, I am a bit sensitive to this issue given the gender-neutral nature of Casey's name.

Instead I just smiled and said thanks.

But when I thought about it, I realized this woman didn't know Casey's name.  And he was wearing a blue and green striped shirt, jeans, and sneakers.  Why would she think he was a girl?

I knew the answer.  I just didn't want to admit it to myself.

It's the hair.  The long, luscious, beautiful golden hair that I've been procrastinating cutting. Because it is so cute and so soft and so Casey.  Because it is his baby hair and he is a baby and why on earth would I cut it?

But in that moment, I realized.  He's not a baby anymore.  He's almost 17 months old and he is a boy and it's time for a real boy haircut.

So after naps, we headed out to Cartoon Cuts.  I've always hated that place.  Braden's always hated that place.  It's dirty and crowded and there is always hair in the lollipop jar.  But somehow, we ended up there anyway.

Braden began experiencing PTSD symptoms upon arrival, and it took me several minutes to convince him that no, he was not getting his haircut.  He eventually calmed down, but it was hard to fight the memory of this moment:

Braden's First Haircut - the first of many of barber shop meltdowns.
Casey was oblivious and happy and trying to eat random chunks of hair off of the floor.  Until his name was called.

He sat calmly for a moment or two and watched Scooby Doo on his own personal mini-TV. (Really? Scooby Doo?).  And by sat, I mean, standing upright with locked knees and clinging to me for dear life.  But the tears were kept at bay.

Until they weren't.

I really don't know how this woman managed to cut his hair in any sort of even way, and judging from the final result, she probably didn't.

Short on the sides and long in the front, anyone? 

But no matter the haircut, he is still my cute, adorable, baby boy.  And today was just a first in a series of firsts to come - first haircut, first day of school, first love.....

My baby boy is growing up.  So, so quickly.

And if you think I didn't save a lock of his hair, you thought wrong.

I love that hair.

I love that boy.

More than anything.


  1. Grandma thinks he is just soooo adorable

  2. Cutie. I really don't know how the woman thought he was a girl. Looks like a boy to me! One day a woman told me how cute my little boy was... My *daughter* was wearing a pink onesie with bees and hearts on it....I guess I should be happy that they are open to the fact that a little boy could wear a pink onesie with smiling bees and hearts all over it?

  3. My son had the same exact experience getting his haircut- whereas my daughter loved it- go figure. Question- my husband is in the Navy (I have posted before) and we may be moving to the Maryland/DC area within the next 2 years. I know it is far in advance but with my type A personality I like to plan. I was wondering what resources you have used to find the freelance work you are doing. I am thinking about trying to work from home (at least initially) when we move so I am trying to decide whether that is actually a possibility or not. Thanks and hope things are getting better.

  4. just stumbled on your blog and had a laugh. ha. people used to always refer to my son as a girl. people are stupid.

  5. Your post reminded me of my brother's hair. My parents kept not getting around to his first haircut. And then when he was about 2, they said, "We'll just wait until he turns 3." (Some traditional Jews wait and have a ceremonial first haircut at 3, even though we're not that religious.) So they waited until he was 4 years old. In the mean time, he had a 90s-rocker style pony tail.

    But before all that (before 18 months), people would see him and say "what a sweet/cute girl." Even though he was wearing dark blues, dark greens, and reds. And lots of tshirts with footballs, and soccer balls, and fire engines...That part I never understood. It was the early 90s, people weren't gender conscious then, so I don't know what about football screamed "girl".

    Glad your little guy survived his first haircut! Hopefully future trips to the barbershop will be easier on him than for his big brother!

  6. @ The Piedmonts - best of luck on your (potential) move to the area! In terms of freelance work, it has come from a hodgepodge of sources. Some of it is from contacts I had when I was working. A few jobs have come through this blog itself. Then there's the old fashioned Craigslist ads, which actually have yielded a couple of legitimate opportunities. It definitely isn't steady money or work, but it's nice to have something. Feel free to email me at butidohavealawdegree@gmail if you want to discuss further (or want any tips for moving to the area).

  7. thanks- I will definitely email as it gets closer (or as I get more panicked).

  8. And i love this blog! I remember when my boy had his first haircut, we were both in the chair, and i fed him cheddar goldfish, one at at time, to keep him calm and distracted...and now he is prepping for the SAT and thinking about college!

  9. OMG. My small bear's hair is so curly that we've managed to put off a haircut and she is 2 next week (you may be able to see it in my photo).

    Dreading cutting it...

  10. Hi. Came here from Kate, who couldn't recommend you highly enough. I love finding funny, clever, real bloggers to follow.

    So far, you are just what I love about blogging: another interesting person.

    Pleasure to meet you.


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