When Cameron was born, one of my first orders of business as a mom of two was getting Willa a haircut. I just couldn’t deal with the hair battles anymore. I mean honestly, the child sounded like she was being straight up tortured when I’d try to brush her hair.
So we went to see my awesome stylist, and Willa had a trim. Unfortunately that was it. A trim. (Maybe in my postpartum haze I wasn’t pushy enough? I can’t remember.) It helped, for sure, but didn’t fundamentally change the situation. It was still a daily battle. We got the brush. The detangler. The fancy detangler. We opted for hats. It didn’t matter. Willa pretty much always looked like a ragamuffin. A cute ragamuffin, to be sure, but definitely a deshelved one. Cue, before photo:
Today, Willa got a hairCUT. Inches! And bangs. No more rubber band or barrette needed to keep hair out of her face. We can leave the house without pigtails or a topknot and she looks somewhat kempt. SCORE. I’m banking on this making my life easier. It seems like it will. Right? Fingers crossed.
Either way, W was a rockstar. She sat perfectly still for the whole thing and is excited to have bangs “like Mommy.” Gosh, I love her. Even if I have to pin her down with my full body weight to brush her hair. It’s all part of parenthood?