a haircut adventure

Yesterday I was home with John Mark and since he has had some crazy hair going on, I decided that I would take him to get his hair cut. This wasn't the first time and he had done great the other times we had taken him. This time... not so much. Here is our story:

My friend Lesley told me that if you go to the hair school you get a cheaper, but still great haircut. I called to find out if they cut kids hair and they said yes, so I figured that there wasn't really any way they could mess up John Mark's hair and since it would save a few bucks, it was worth a shot. Those poor girls never saw us coming...

We get there and suddenly the idea of a haircut isn’t quite so exciting. He decides he doesn’t want to sit on the booster seat, just my lap. So they put capes on us both and we’re doing good... While he's still not thrilled, they gave him a cookie so at least he is occupied. And then, well, disaster struck. The lady nicks his neck.

He FREAKS out (understandably so) and is screaming- climbing up me, rubbing snot all over me and the cape, drooling cookie and really letting them know what he thinks about this whole experience. At this point he is so past DONE, it's not even funny. We have also entered the realm of no longer upset about getting hurt to just plain throwing a fit.

We go outside and have a nice, friendly chat about how we act in public and call Micah to see if maybe that will calm the poor kid down enough to at least get rid of the funky, lopsided bowl cut we have going on. Micah tells him that if he will go inside and finish the haircut we can come to the office and go get ice cream. This seems to do the trick and we enter the salon for take two.

This might be a good time to point out we’ve been there for an HOUR.

We walk back in, sit down in the chair and he seems to be okay. Then lady #3 (we've scared the first 2 off by this point) touches his hair. And the downward spiral begins yet again. Snot and tears are flying, my arms are basically numb from holding him down and we STILL have a bowl cut.

By now, I've moved past feeling sorry for him, past being annoyed and embarrassed... ladies and gents, we're entering Red Stephanie (just keepin' it real). So we go outside one more time and I tell him- this is the deal: you either go back inside, sit still, finish your haircut and go get ice cream with mommy and daddy, or we’ll go home and you will go straight to bed and take a night night.

He whimpers a little says he wants the haircut... no, the night-night... no, haircut... we finally settle on going home and walk back in the pay. Then he changes his mind and freaks out (this is meltdown #4) that he WANTS a haircut. I tell him (I know this goes against all parenting principles, by the way, but the boy looked CRAZY and I really wanted to get his hair finished) that I will NOT carry him back in there. If he wants his haircut he has to walk in there himself and sit down in the chair.

For some reason, this works. He marches back into the room, picks the chair he wants to sit in and then asks nicely to sit in my lap. We're covered in hair already, so we completely forgo the capes and I tell the poor girl (#4) to just get it done. She thinks quick and hands him her spray bottle to "squirt mommy". This is entertaining and he thinks it's funny and I give her the look that screams "do it now!"

So finally, two hours later, we limp out of the salon. Those girls certainly got their lesson for the day. They also got a tip big enough to make my total what it would have been if I had just gone to the original salon to begin with.