I'm Going to Get My Haircut

Motherhood is an emotional ride. That is something I've been learning over the last...3 years or so. The littlest things set me off with this boy. I don't know if it's because we worked so hard to get him here, or if it's because we have no idea what the future holds for us, family wise. More likely, every mother feels like this, no matter the circumstance. All I know is that each milestone is a grand affair for me.

I resisted this one. I did not want to cut his hair. I mean, just look at these curls:

I loved that baby fine hair. I loved to stroke his forehead and feel the little wisps and curls. I loved how Walt would reach up and play with his hair in an absent-minded manner. I thought it was just adorable to see the curly locks sticking out over his ears and collar. I enjoyed these baby hairs for 14 glorious months.

And then, one fateful day, he came home from daycare with a ponytail.

And the neighbor children called him "she."

And (with some gentle prodding from Landon), I just knew it was time. My baby is not Sampson, after all, and at some point, deep down, I always knew this day would come.

So, with a few tears but also some excitement for this coming-of-age moment, we asked Grandma Burgener (who has been cutting Landon's hair since he was even younger than this) to do the honors, and she gave Walt his first haircut. 

The whole time, this song was in my head:

It really helped, having Cookie Monster there for moral support. :)

Walt did great! Grandma is a pro (having practiced on 5 boys + her husband for 25 years), and it went so much better than I thought it would.

And he looks so handsome and grown up. *Sniff*

We got through it. And although I was sad to see those baby-fine, curly locks go, I am of course also glad to be part of all of Walt's growing-up experiences. I love this boy so much, and each milestone, although emotional, is also a badge of honor, for both of us.

I love you baby boy!