First Haircut

Mister and I talked about having Bama's haircut. We really wanted to wait as long as possible. I think I wanted to because it would keep her little longer, even though I don't want her to stay little and am enjoying her growing up. But a haircut seems so, big girl. But her hair was getting scrappy and needed some help. I suggested it a few times before we moved, but it didn't happen.

Why pay someone else to do it? It's expensive, and I probably could have cut it myself. However, I cut my own hair for six months only to have my stylist make me promise to "never, ever do that again." Add to that a couple of my mamas wielded shears with questionable results (smooches!). Whereas one of those mamas and a couple of others shelled out for cuts and with great results.

While I was pushing for the cut, Mister was hanging back, less enthusiastic. 

Until we moved. "There's a place on Christopher Street!," he gushed. "It has a plane and a car and a boat they sit in while they get their haircuts."

Mind you, those places existed a mile from our house in Oakland, but no matter. It was off to Doodle Doos for a cut on Saturday afternoon. Post nap, thank you!


Pre-cut conference. (If you aren't sure why we thought she needed a haircut, check out her hair in this post.)


In the boat, things aren't too bad. She looks like she's part of a parade float.


The first snips. She cut a lock for us. We also have a certificate honoring the moment. Cheeze. 



All done. Butterfly clip in place. Bangs can be swept to the side or fall forward. Curls reappeared at her ears. Mullet and fried back of head, gone. 

First Haircut

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