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!

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

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



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



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Seriously? 



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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. 

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First Haircut

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