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!

Thank you, Dad.

As we approach Father's Day, I could go on and on about what a wonderful father I have -- and how good he has been to me, consistently, throughout my life.

It's clear, for example, in the man I chose to be the father of my own children just what kind of example my Dad set. And you read this week about how Dad drove an hour just to bring me a plant on my birthday.

I'm a lucky, lucky Daddy's girl and I hope Dad knows how thankful I am for all that he is and does in my life.

But I don't think I thank my Dad enough for the wonderful things he does for everyone else in his life.

How he spends so much quality time with my 97-year-old Granddad at least four times a week, does all his grocery shopping, takes him to the doctor and to the bank, helps him write out his bills and fills his prescriptions, leaves him food to eat, bathes and shaves him. And most importantly, he just provides company -- watching sports or the news for hours on end (sometimes falling asleep from exhaustion) -- so that Granddad won't feel so alone.

How he remains at my brother Rashad's beck and call -- responding to all his needs -- even late-night calls for directions because Rashad's memory is so bad after his accident. How he (and my Mom) still support my siblings, well into adulthood, even though they should probably have stopped a long time ago.

Instead, Dad gives more and more, mostly because he wants to be sure his grandchildren are OK.  He often stops whatever he's doing to actively love his grandchildren: Making Cary feel good about his glasses, going to Kalonji's parent-teacher conferences, or Grandparents' Day at Russy's school. (And we can't even talk about how much he dotes on Matty.)

Last night, he went to my sister's house to give her youngest son, Kwahli, a haircut, because today was his kindergarten graduation. He brought over his clippers, sat him on the counter, and buzzed away. 

And look how handsome Kwahli was!

Dad (and Mom) also bought his suit and tie and shoes.

His sisters, Aminah and Alahna love him!

And of course, Dad was there today, cheering Kwahli on.

Because that's what my Dad does. He shows up when you need him. He's there for the things that matter.

I'm so glad my kids have this kind of example in their father -- and their grandfather.

Happy Father's Day to both of you amazing men.

We all love you!

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.

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!)

The good, the bad and the ugly

The good:

Clair is waving! She does it all the time, and appropriately. When you say hello or good-bye, she starts waving. Of course I tried to capture it here, and the twin tornados had to get all up in the mix. So you can barely see the wave. I'll work on getting a better video. Meantime, here she is, my happy little waver.

And now for the the bad and the ugly -- which are all in one:

Lester went to give Dean a haircut. He plugged in his electric clippers and turned to go get something he needed out of the dining room. In an instant, Dean -- who is ALWAYS looking for something to get into (seriously, 99.8-percent of the time he is into something) -- grabs the clippers, figures out how to turn them on, and gives Cary this awesome (NOT!) haircut.

Sigh.

It looks a little bit less noticeable when his hair is not wet, but I think I'm fooling myself by thinking I don't actually have to cut his hair all the way down to that newly-shorn length. But I love his little curls! And I don't want him to look like such a big boy with a big boy haircut! Waaaaaah!

Oh well. The good news is I posted this unfortunate turn of events on Facebook and got to read and laugh about all the ridiculous hair-cutting stories that have happened with friends' kids over the years. Here's the best one, from an old college friend:

Been there done that so so many times over the last thirteen years. One time the oldest shaved the middle child's hair in the middle while he was sleep and then krazy glued the excess hair to his face. True story.

Now THAT is so much worse than Cary's little reverse Mohawk, I actually do feel better. LOL!

Cary's first non-Daddy haircut!

Lester has always wanted to be the kind of Dad who cuts his own sons' hair.

It's a very, very sweet idea, and I'm all for it. I love the idea of them always having that father-son time together. And Lester also loves it because it saves money.

But we did not count on Cary's hair texture when we thought this could happen throughout the boys' childhoods.

Dean's hair is such that Lester can just take his electric clippers and buzz all around, sorta like mowing the lawn. It doesn't matter so much just *how* you mow, so long as when you're done, the grass is shorter - and approximately the same length all around.

But with Cary, whose curly hair is softer, with patchy places that need to be cleverly concealed, that technique has proved to be less-than-desirable. Lester has tried and tried, and the last time he buzzed my poor child's hair to pieces, I declared "no more!"

So we took Cary to the barbershop this weekend, and had a trained professional cut his hair.

He cried at first, and said he was tired and wanted to take a nap. LOL.

We got him to calm down by showing him how his hair was falling on the smock. Also, Dean came over and told him, "Tarry, it's o-tay. It's o-tay."

Lester watched the whole thing and now swears that he can cut Cary's hair. You know, because he's seen the trained professional do it ONCE.

Cute hair!! Cute boy!

Look at my handsome boys! I absolutely love Cary's haircut.

And a photo of the whole family! We haven't had one of these since Clair was 11 days old! Thanks so much to the barber who came running out to take this picture of us, just because she said we were such a nice family. Awwww.

Needless to say, I think we should always let TRAINED PROFESSIONALS cut Cary's hair, despite his wonderful father's insistence that he can do it.

But then, what do we do with Dean? It's weird to let one boy get his haircut by Dad and one boy get his cut by a barber (aka "the trained professional!")

My vote is to let them both go to the barbershop. Lester thinks differently. We'll see how this turns out. :-)

Hair Woes

Today's confession:

I am reading black hair care blogs because I do not know how to do my own child's hair.
This is a problem because, if you haven't noticed, I am black.
Ahem.
Isn't that sad? I am having to troll the Internets for advice about what to do with my sweetie's hair. Sad, sad and pitiful.

In my defense, there are a couple reasons why:

My hair is quite different than "normal" black hair (if there is such a thing); it's a little less coarse and curls into loose-ish waves when wet. Dean's hair, like his Dad's, is more "normal black" (if there is such a thing), so I'm out of my element a little bit, as I'm used to dealing with my own hair-type, and, truthfully, only as a full-grown adult learned what products and styling methods work best for my own hair.

And since I knew I was having boys, I thought I could avoid the hair-care problem altogether. So I pretty much ignored their hair for months.

But Dean's hair requires actual "doing," and is much drier than my hair. So it's taken me all this time (plus some chiding from my sister Tahira, who takes much better care of her hair than I do) to realize that I have not been doing him any services by 1) washing his hair every night 2) not really putting any oil in his hair 3) not brushing his hair every day.

See Exhibit A (pre-haircut) of evidence of his dry, crazy hair:


Doesn't he look like he is saying, "Mommy, why do you have me out in public with my hair looking like this? Don't you know I need some MOISTURE in my hair? And have you heard of a thing called a BRUSH?"

Who knew??
I am a terrible mother.
But I am determined to do better.

Thus - searching the Internets.

One problem I'm having during my search is that most "traditional" black hair care products are not natural, and have a lot of crap in 'em that I don't want to put on my baby's head.

And when I search for "natural" hair care products and tips, I find a lot of advice for girls, not boys. I guess that's to be expected, but it's clear (I've come to learn) that my son's hair needs attention -- maybe not for styling, but definitely for general care. I can't believe that other parents of black boys aren't in need of more information to help in this area. Where are the websites for boys? Could it be just me who is clueless? Maybe everyone else just knows what to do already. I dunno.

Anyway, I am determined to do better by my little baby, especially now that we've gotten his hair cut and you can really see how dry his little scalp is. Poor pumpkin! Mommy's gonna do better!! You just wait.

Meanwhile, I wonder if I should be doing anything differently with Cary's hair -- which is different than Dean's and Dad's, but not quite like mine either (since he's a boy). Perhaps I should stop ignoring his hair, too?

Sigh. One day I'll figure it out, I suppose. By then, pray my poor children haven't gone bald.

Embrace the insanity

Dean's first haircut!



This weekend, Dean got his first haircut and both boys started walking!

They're still very unsteady on their feet -- and they only take 6 or 7 steps before falling into someone's arms, and then resorting back to crawling -- but they both did it! How crazy is it that they both started walking on the same day? This is probably the first milestone that they've hit together, or even close to together for that matter.

I'll try to get video soon, but it usually happens so fast, I don't have time to do anything but sit there and hold my breath and then it's over.

Also, we got Dean a haircut for the first time this weekend. I took totally cute pictures of him wailing, and then smiling at his newly-shorn look, but I left my camera at my mom and dad's! Grrrr!!

So, you'll have to wait for those pictures as well. Clearly, I suck.

(Edited 7/12 to show PHOTOS of the HAIRCUT! Whoo-hoo!!)

Here's Dean, realizing that he does NOT like the sound of those clippers:


When the very nice barber said, "OK, sweetie, all done!" he looked at her as if to say, "Really? You really mean it?" It was so cute!

And then, out of nowhere, he burst into this grin, like, "Check me out! I look smokin'!"


Which he totally does! With a haircut and 2.5 teeth, my baby boy looks like a whole new person. Such a big boy!


In other news, I have been feeling pretty down about the news I reported last week (right here on this blog!) because I really have no idea how this is going to work. So my friend Kelly sent me this video (letting me know what's in store for me and Lester, in terms of transporting three small children around):

Swagger Wagon

Hysterical -- this video definitely lifted my spirits! Never thought I was the mini-van type, but God clearly has other plans for me.

When Kelly sent me the link to the video, her advice to me was: "Embrace the insanity."

Good advice, Kel. I think I'm going to put that right up there on the list with, "Ignore the tray."

11-months!

The babies turned 11 months yesterday. Seriously, where did the time go?

Last night, I was looking at a video of them when they were little, little babies, sitting in their little green chairs, twitching and struggling to hold their heads up. I called their names -- they didn't respond. There was drool on their little bibs. They were both fairly bald.

Today, Dean has figured out how to flip himself out of those little green chairs. They can hold their heads up, and pull themselves up on any fairly stable object (and some not-so-stable). They totally know their names (although they still don't always respond). They're not drooling hardly ever anymore, nor do they have the TEETH everyone told me was the reason why they were drooling so much back then. And they both have lots of hair, about which I'm writing.

Hair: What to do with it as we approach 1-year.

Cary has a neat mess of curls (you like that oxymoron, don't you?) on the top middle of his head. Dean has a head full of tight curls that fuzz out on the ends. I love my sweetie's hair, but in pictures, it always looks a fuzzy mess! I want to cut it for the Happy First Birthday pictures we're having taken on their birthday, because pictures last a lifetime people.
But Lester doesn't think we need to. And the thought of him sitting in a barber chair is mind-boggling. He's just a baby!!!!! How do people have 1-year-old children who are mature enough to sit through a haircut? I can't imagine it.

So I think maybe we'll wait on this one.

And honestly, his hair isn't really all that long, and it is manageable with hair products and a lot of brushing.

Which, is sorta funny because when I was pregnant and found out I was having two boys, I remember thinking, "Great! I won't have to do anyone's hair!"

Famous last words.

Here's the video of babies in little green chairs (please ignore my horrible attempts to sing...thanks). The computer says this was taken in October, which would make them 5 months old. I think they were actually a little younger, like 4 months, probably. But who am I to argue with the computer? Anyway, here they are, all floppy and twitchy and ADORABLE!!: