Oh the irony - a post about haircuts and spankings

My Mom and Dad went to New York this weekend to be present at the very, very small wedding of my Dad's cousin, Johnny. It was so small, that with the addition of my parents, the total people present at the wedding - including the bride and groom and pastor -- was 5.

On the way back, Dad and Mom stopped at our house for breakfast. Lester made pancakes from scratch. I made cinnamon apples. We ate until we were stuffed, and sat around the table talking about the latest NFL scandal involving a football player who "disciplined' his 4-year-old by beating him with a switch until he tore the skin and left marks that were visible three days later. This turned into a debate about spanking vs. not spanking.

While we were debating, the kids were entertaining themselves, sometimes watching TV, sometimes playing with toys, sometimes running through the house making a lot of noise. We pretty much ignored them, because we keep trying not to hover quite so much -- "benign neglect" for their benefit and ours. And the discipline debate was pretty passionate, so we also kinda forgot about them. (Just being honest.)

And then Dean decided to play barber shop and cut two huge chunks out of the side and back of Clair's hair:

This is more hair than it looks like, because her hair is so tightly coiled. Today, my poor daughter has a combover -- a look she will be rocking for many months to come.

I posted this status message on Facebook about it:

Parents and grandparents downstairs at the breakfast table, passionately debating old school vs. new school ways of disciplining children. To make the discussion less hypothetical, my helpful boy decides to cut huge chunks out of Clair's hair. Grandparents leave after breakfast -- smug.

Which makes the irony of it all seem kinda funny. Oh, kids -- they sure have good timing. Ha. Ha. Ha. And I suppose I can see how at a certain point, it will be funny. But believe me, as I combed through her hair and more and more curls kept coming out into my hand, I was almost in tears.

Here's my dirty little secret: I wanted to spank Dean. I really did. I wanted to yell and scream and really punish him. I felt like he needed to know how serious what he did was. I could totally identify with that parental urge to make him understand his crime, and instill in him a fear of repercussions that would make him never, ever do that again.

But I didn't --WE didn't, Lester and I. Instead, we made him go to his room and lie down - separated from us, his grandparents, the TV and the cinnamon apples. He stayed there for three and a half hours (he fell asleep).


If I had not just been arguing with my parents about my belief that we can raise our children to be well-behaved, respectful and good decision makers without spanking them, would I have chosen that way of punishing him? I think I would. I hope I would. And here's why:

Aside from the obvious arguments about respecting a child's personhood, and about the hypocrisy of teaching children not to hit when we, ourselves, him them, I just don't believe in my heart of hearts that spankings work. I think they make children fearful, yes, but not of the thing parents hope. In fact, I think they only serve to make them fear YOU.

I don't want Dean to fear me. What I want is for him to learn to better regulate his impulses. I want him to try harder to remember that scissors are for cutting paper and paper only. And that he is not supposed to even handle scissors when an adult is not around. We've told him these things many times, but I believe this kind of learning takes place over time -- not by dealing a swift blow to knock it out of him once and for all.

I don't want my children to fear me. I want them to love, respect and trust me.  And that won't happen if they think I will hurt them.

Cary, Dean and Clair: I will not hurt you, my littlest loves. I will love you and guide you and teach you and, yes, discipline you. I will make mistakes, that is a guarantee. But I will try my absolute hardest not to ever hurt you. Even when you do ridiculously stupid things like CUT YOUR SISTER'S HAIR, WHICH TOOK THREE FRIKKIN' YEARS TO GET LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO ACTUALLY STYLE!!!

P.S. Later we found out that Cary was in on the cutting game too; he snipped a little bit of fabric out of Clair's prettiest pink tutu. (Clair was far more upset about that than she was about her hair). By the time the full story unfolded, I was too tapped out from having to put my money where my mouth was to really grasp what happened. Thankfully, Lester had his wits about him and sent Cary to bed too. So when the boys woke up at 3:30, they both had missed lunch. It was too early for dinner, and they both wanted snacks. But I held my ground and didn't give them anything, and I patiently explained why: They missed lunch because they had to go to bed while the rest of us ate, because they both did something very bad. And now they had to wait until dinner to eat. Let me tell you -- this was probably the best punishment I could ever have dreamed up. These kids love to eat -- snacks especially! So I think they got the message. I hope so anyway.

I didn't have to spank them; their little growling bellies were pain and suffering enough!

Clair and her hair

Remember how when I was pregnant with Clair, my curls just went completely away? That's how I knew I was having a girl, even before the ultrasound confirmed it. I knew she was stealing my curls to populate her own little head.

Apparently our heads of hair are still connected, because as my hair is getting thinner (Seriously, folks. I have like 22 strands of hair left on my head), Clair's hair is getting thicker and thicker.

 

Y'all.

Pray for me as her beautifully thick head of hair just gets longer, curlier and coiler.

And pray for our bank accounts, slowly being depleted to pay for all of the hair products.

Thank you. God bless you. Good night.

Chopped!

You know how I've been going back and forth about whether I should cut my hair?

And how it's a bigger deal than it probably should be, because I have had long(ish) hair since forever. Seriously. I've had the same hairstyle since college, basically. I cut it once - and died it light brown, too, with blondish highlights. Boy, was that a drastic change! -- and only once. That was in 1995 or 1996.

So I really was on the fence. But I was so sick of my boring ole hair. And I was really sick of seeing my forehead. And the thinning was really bothering me. The longer it got, the thinner it seemed.

So I started looking at celebrity haircuts, to see what shorter cuts I liked. Over the last few weeks, I've pored over hundreds of pictures. It was overwhelming. But I narrowed it down to two.

Of course, my hair isn't the texture of either one of these lovely women's. The strands of my hair are finer and frizzier and, in general, there's just less of it.

But I decided to give it a shot. What could be the worst thing that could happen? And no matter what, my hair would grow, right?

So last night after work - for the first time in 18 or 19 years, I cut my hair. Chopped off about 5 inches -- and got me some bangs! Bow-chicka-bow-wow!

Not exactly Kerry Washington, but who is?

It didn't turn out to be quite the hair of those lucky celebrities with thick, gorgeous tresses -- whose names I don't know.  But it's not bad, either.

I like it fine so far, but I think I'll like it better in a day or two. Lester likes it OK, I think. But it'll take some getting used to.

The best thing: Clair said to me TWICE this morning, "Mommy, you looka pretty!"

My boys didn't even notice. LOL.

Moral of this whole story? I'm so happy God gave me a daughter.

Making progress with the hair

I am trying to quit being such a slacker when it comes to Clair's hair.

It's not as easy as it sounds because her hair is still not long enough to do all that much to it, and it's ultra-ultra curly so taming those wily curls takes time, and she still has that maddening baby baldness just a bit in the back.

Not to mention the fact that she hates to sit still to get her hair done, so half the time I'm trying to do her hair, what I'm really doing is twisting her body around, or re-positioning her head or saying, "Clair, no! Sit still. Stop it. No, Clair. Mommy's almost done! Please, Clair, stop it. Be patient. Clair! Clair! Clair!"

But today, I actually managed pony-puffs! (They're not really ponytails and they're not really Afro-puffs, so I'm calling them "pony-puffs.")

She looks happy about them, no?

I did this while getting ready for work even, so check. me. out!

I would like to point out that when I posted this photo on FB this morning, a good friend thought my Mom did her hair. Or Michelle. "I just knew you had nothing to do with this," he wrote.


And when I texted the photo to my Mom, she texted back, "Her hair looks cute. Who did it?"

LOL! That just goes to show you that I really do suck at doing little girl's hair. But I warned the world that this was the case waaaay back when I discovered I was growing a girl child in my uterus.

So I don't feel all that bad. I recognize where I fall short, people. I can't be fabulous at everything!

But I'm trying!

Thanksgiving thankfulness

I am thankful for SO many things. When it gets to this time of year -- when everyone is posting about gratefulness -- I find that I can't actually list them all.

I mean, there's my relationship with God (ever-evolving), my seriously amazing husband and friend, my beautiful boys, my sweet daughter, my supportive and loving parents, my wonderful family, my devoted friends, my awesome babysitter, financial stability, good health, a safe and happy home, a job I enjoy, etc. etc. etc. And those are just the big things. I could go on and on and on and on about the small things (heated seats, helllllooooo!) 

So I usually don't participate in the gratefulness postings. It sounds silly, but I just get overwhelmed by being grateful.

But after spending three days at my Mom and Dad's house this Thanksgiving holiday, I decided to post about three things for which I am grateful (Mom's sweet potato pie is always on the list, so just imagine that item as 1 a, b and c.)

1. I am grateful that my boys so LOVE being at their "Nana's house." All of my sisters' kids have lived with my parents for some period of time. So I always worried that our every-so-often visits to Mom and Dad's would never compare to actually living there, and that my kids would not be as comfortable running around their house as their cousins. Suffice it to say, I was so wrong. These boys think Nana's house is like Christmas, Halloween and birthday parties all rolled up in one. They have so much fun. And my Mom always finds ways to up the ante each visit. This weekend, she pulled out old costumes she had lying around and put them on Cary and Dean. The little dragon and the little doggie were the happiest two critters around! This makes my heart so glad! Just because we're the only ones who live more than 20 minutes away from my parents doesn't mean we miss out on all the fun. Hooray!

Having a very important discussion, clearly.

2. I am grateful that my sister Tahira enjoys doing little girls' hair (because I am still so bad at it). And that Clair sits still for the hair-and-beauty session. I am grateful that my sister, who is one of my best friends, loves my children so much. I am getting teary just thinking about it. (See? Getting overwhelmed!!! Ugh!)

Clair is going to have such a special relationship with her Auntie. It reminds me already of my relationship with my Aunt Fern, who I used to stare at, when I was a little girl, thinking, "She is the most beautiful, most stylish, most fun, most wonderful Auntie ever!"

 3. And I am grateful for my nieces and nephews, who are a loud and wild bunch, with attitudes and sassy personalities and who never, ever, ever sit still. But that's not why I'm grateful for them. I am grateful for them because -- despite having challenging lives and growing up way too fast -- they are still so super sweet. They love C, D and C to pieces. They give us all hugs and kisses and ask a zillion questions and are always so, so glad to see us. And this weekend, when the Davises put all our kids down for a nap (and decided to steal a few winks with them), 6-year-old Alahna put this note on our bedroom door.

Isn't that the sweetest? Good grief, those kids are sweet. (Getting overwhelmed again. Oy!)

We "lov" you, too Alahna. And all the rest of you crazy kids, too. And the whole darn family of crazies. And we're so, so grateful that you're in our lives.

Happy post-Thanksgiving all!

Bye-bye curls

I thought I could live with Cary's patchy hair, but Lester and I both decided it'd be better to get his hair cut and let it all grow back in evenly.

So I took the boys to the barber on Saturday. We saw the same barber who cut Cary's hair the first time. She laughed at his bald spot, and got straight to work. Cary, for his part, was not thrilled, but didn't cry.

Look at my little curl-less boy. :-(

When it was all over, Dean clapped wildly and said "Good job, Cary!"

I have the best boys!

To reward Cary for having to lose all his hair to his brother's barbering experiment, and to reward Dean for being a supportive little brother, I took my sweeties out for pizza afterward.

They sat at the table like big boys, and didn't get down and run around or throw things or act like banshees. I've been teaching them to sit either "on your bottoms or on your knees" at restaurants, and they were really good about remembering that. They said "thank you!" to the servers, and waved "Hi!" to the children in the booth behind us. We stuffed ourselves full of cheesy pizza and chicken strips and fries. The boys even tried honey mustard for the first time (Cary - NO!; Dean - Yes, sir!!) and life was good.

Notice Dean's trance-like state? There was a TV on behind me with some kind of NASCAR-like race going on.

So all in all, I'd say, the aftermath of losing Cary's curls was not so bad after all. I got to bond with my big boys and Cary actually looks kinda cute.

So, bye-bye curls. We'll miss you, but we'll be waiting for you to come back in a few months. (And this time, we'll keep the clippers away from Deanie!)