The Haircut

Evan had his first haircut in December 2012, just before he turned two. How could we want to cut his hair with those adorable curls? Our stylist, Erika, has been keeping his bangs in order since then because Evan just did not want to dive in and have THE haircut.

With adorable eyes and gorgeous hair, Evan has been called a girl…even by some people in our family. We have been told many times it was time to get it cut. We told him many times (during tear-filled detangling sessions) it was time to get it cut. But Evan’s long hair was not OUR choice, it was his. He really, really, really enjoyed having long “surfer dude” hair. We were leaving his hair long until the day he decided it was the right time.

While I get why some people would be confused as to Evan’s boyhood, we are raising up a family of kiddos who accept everyone, just the way they are. Whether they fit in a booth or not. Whether they have money to make Pinterest-y valentines or not. Whether they are able to diaper their babies in disposables or cloth. Whether they are sticking around in an abusive relationship or had the courage to get out. Whether they are straight or gay, we’ll support and love them. Whether they are white, black, brown, red, or any other color. And Evan having his long hair, painted nails, and being the rough and tough ‘lil boy HE wants to be fits right in with how we are raising him. As his Momma and Daddy, we couldn’t be prouder of his choice.

But, being proud of his choice meant that when he said he wanted his hair cut, he meant it and it was time. So, a few weeks ago, when Evan said it was time, we made plans to get on Erika’s schedule at Great Clips and get there before he could change his mind. The whole way there, Greg and Arianna asked him if he was sure. He was sure. He was ready. I fought back tears of happiness because he was so firm in his choice. When we arrived, there was someone finishing up in her chair, so he patiently waited, his only concern being if he’d get a lollipop at the end of the haircut.

The “Before” Picture

He watched as Arianna and Greg got their touch-ups (I’m off their schedule and desperately trying to take advantage of the hormones growing my hair deal) and then climbed in Erika’s seat when he was ready. Our big boy. She asked him how much he wanted off and he said “take it to my ears”. We pulled it back to show him how much that would be and he confirmed it was good. As she snipped away hair after hair, my heart grew and grew for love of my boy. He has always been handsome, but watching the hairs hit the floor and his ‘lil curls perk up on the back of his head made him look older. More like a big brother and less and less of my baby boy.

Arianna came over to me first. She hugged me and asked if Bubby was really okay with this. She shed a few tears because she loved (and was jealous of) his hair. Then Greg came over. I’ll publicly admit for him that he shed a few tears, too, but held it together because this was Evan’s decision. No, they weren’t crying over losing the hair. They were crying over his grown-up decision and how different he was beginning to look. He’s not the baby anymore, and there it was, happening right before our eyes.

When Erika finished, she let Evan look into the mirror and a huge smile came across his face. I think he nodded when she asked if he liked it and then asked, “can I have a pop now?”. Momma’s soft side said that not only could he have a pop, but a pretzel and frozen drink at the mall and if they were open still, time at Gigglez n’ Smiles. He earned it.

The “After” Picture

Throughout the evening, I kept running my fingers through (what was left of) his hair and looking at the braid Erika gave us to put in his scrapbook. It was hard to believe that my ‘lil guy grew more hair in four years than my ‘lil girl has in six. It was hard to believe he came to this decision on his own – citing his sports heroes Troy Polamalu and Andrew McCutchen as reasons he wanted his hair to be long. And even the next day, when Greg woke from his post-poker nap, he had to do a double-take to realize the kid with short hair running around our house was our ‘lil boy.

We love you, just the way you are, Mr. Evan!