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Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow, Part II

Disclaimer: No children were harmed in the writing of this post

So I got my hair cut and styled and, much to my surprise, I didn't turn into Rose Byrne's identical twin.

Rose Byrne (not me)

But it did make me wonder why, as much as I love to experiment with my own hair, I freak out when my children have tried to do the same. Of course, they were experimenting using school scissors and didn't have the benefit of a talented stylist.

My daughter butchered cut her own hair when she was four. She cut it down the scalp in some places and left long stringy pieces hanging down in others. She cut as close to the hairline as she could on the top of her head, creating a 1/4 inch Mohawk. She ran into my room and with a big smile on her face, calling out, "Mommy, look what I did!"

It wasn't my best moment...


It was just like that (except I wasn't yelling about wire hangers, beating my child or wearing cold cream on my face). I was just very very upset and got a leetle hysterical. In my defense, we adopted my daughter from a Russian orphanage and seeing her with "orphan" hair again devastated me. She also was enrolled in a little drama class and had a performance the next day. Ironically, she was playing one of the orphans in "Annie." Now that I think about it, maybe she was just practicing method acting with a dedication that would have made Lee Strasberg proud.

Then there was my son. "The INNCIDENT" happened when he was 10. I kept looking at him trying to figure out what was different about him. Quite frankly, he looked angry. Like he had a permanent scowl on his face. I thought he was just going through the early stages of puberty or was going to murder me in my sleep.

Then I got a good look at his eyebrows.

He had shaved them off and drawn them in with eyeliner. A black eyeliner. And it took me two days to notice.

Whew! What a relief! He wasn't angry with me, he was just extremely worried that his wispy little eyebrows might develop into a dreaded unibrow one day and was being proactive. Of course! It all made perfect sense. Not.

The best part is that he was at that stage where he said he didn't believe in Santa but he asked me to mail him a letter. In it, he asked Santa for new eyebrows. I still have that letter and am tearing up just thinking about it.

His eyebrows did grow back eventually, just like my daughter's hair. And now I find it amusing. Funny how it works like that...