Manic Monday - Labor

In honor of Labor Day, this week’s Manic Monday word is Labor! I may be stretching it a little bit in today’s post, but I really wanted to share the following story.

I know I have shared with you all before the labor-intensive task of cutting the children’s hair. I finally gave up with Eli. It was way too difficult to make his hair look somewhat normal when he was curled into a ball with his hands over his head like a tornado drill, screaming, “It hurts!”

I finally decided it was worth it to shell out the $16 to take him into Shear Madness and have them deal with it. Of course when a stranger cuts his hair, he is a perfect angel. How sweet of him to save the insanity for mom!

Unfortunately, I’m still under the delusion that I can cut Georgia’s hair myself. . . No, really, I haven’t been smoking the crackpipe. I just had a momentary lapse in judgment. I was only planning to cut her bangs, so how hard could it actually be?

Well, I spent days building up my nerve energy that I was going to need for the labor of cutting my two-year-old’s hair. I sat her on the vanity in the bathroom, gave her toys, and let her play in the sink while I trimmed away. I was actually pleased. With a minimal amount of wiggling, her bangs only turned out slightly crooked and just a little too short. Yay me!

It wasn’t until later in the day that this would come back to haunt me. Georgia was sitting by the coffee table working on some crafts. We have a couple of pairs of the little kid scissors with the rounded edges that the kids work with. You wouldn’t think those damn things would be sharp enough to cut hair!

I was working on my laptop, and Georgia climbed on my lap and came at my head with a pair of scissors. Luckily, I caught her little hand before she did any damage, but it was obvious at that point that our hair-cutting experience had made an impression.

Now, I have posted many pictures of my daughter, and you all know we usually put a ponytail on top of her head because we are growing out the unfortunate bang incident that happened last year when I attempted to cut her hair. It was finally getting to a decent length, too!

Then Eric went to take down her ponytail so we could get her ready for bed. When he took the rubberband out of her hair, half of her ponytail came out with it. I just heard a gasp from Eric and he said, “I think she cut her hair!”

Oh yeah she did! Apparently she used those craft scissors on herself before she turned them on me. And apparently, she attempted to cut off her ponytail. I couldn’t even speak at that point. It was more of a strangled moan that came out of my mouth. Eric was pouring me a glass of wine before I could even think of anything to say, God bless him.

And Georgia? Well, I still haven’t figured out what to do about her hair. I need to take her into the salon because Eric’s only order request was “Don’t try to fix it yourself!” And I refuse to cut her hair short. That brings back traumatic memories of the Dorothy Hamill cut I had when I was five. I still remember the countless children who asked if I was a boy or a girl.

One thing is for sure. I am throwing all of the scissors away!!