Maizeys First Haircut

I can openly admit that sometimes I make a bigger deal about things than they need to be. Specifically when it comes to my kids. I am attached to every little thing they have ever worn, touched, done, made, talked about and maybe even just looked at. I look at the little people they are growing into and find myself grasping at hanging on to the babies they were.  I feel a bit flailing as I try to launch into these next stages. I know it's inevitable and I do know that I always end up fine but the transition is hard on me and if I have learned anything over these last three years, it's to accept the feelings I am having, process them and then move on when it feels right. I guess it just takes me a little extra time.



All that to say, I have been hanging on to the wispy ends of Maizeys hair for a really long time, telling myself that it didn't need to be cut, that it was growing the way it should be, blah blah blah. I was secretly just scared that she would look too grown up and I was not ready for that.



Two days ago, I took the plunge and made an appointment. God damn it, they could get her in the next day. What the hell??? I have to wait weeks to get in. Anyways, I bit the bullet and booked it.
All day yesterday I made comments about going to get "the haircut" and she was pumped. I even (accidentally) mentioned a few times how scary and sad it was going to be. I quickly recovered each time, and I don't even think she noticed, but let it be known that I didn't play it cool at all. AT ALL. I will say it, I was dramatic, but my girl is awesome at being the exact opposite of me and she was nothing BUT cool.



We made it to the salon and she did exactly as she was told. She sat for pictures, climbed onto the chair, sat very very still, looked down when she was supposed to, looked up when she was supposed to, was dead serious through most of it, except for when Crystal told her to say cheese, at which she made a ridiculous face and kept it though most of the photos.



She was such a bigger girl than she is supposed to be. I got teary and weepy when she started, but distracted myself with taking pictures.



I think she felt like a big girl and I know she was super proud of herself.

We left the salon, sucker in her hand and I felt so relieved that it was over.
It wasn't a big deal. My mom asked how it looked and truth be told, to probably anyone other than me, it might not even be noticeable... thats how little was taken off. She skipped out to the truck in her crooked little skipping way that is so uncoordinated and a bit clumsy and I knew she was still just my tiny little girl that just sometimes feels big. I mean, when we got home, she got down on all fours and licked snow off the step, so she's not like, actually that grownup yet.


(her first french braid!)

I made a big deal. It's over now and I am happy I made that big of a deal, first haircuts are big and I want to remember it. I will still hold on tight to the last bits of baby, but I will also help her on her way to the new, bigger girl that's emerging. Starting with a fresh new haircut.