Snip, Snip, Snip

Other than wanting a healthy baby, I had only two requests for the powers that be about the baby I was carrying--dark eyes and dark hair. When he was born, I thought I had hit the jackpot. Not only was he perfect in every way (looking back, I realize that was probably the hormones talking) but he had beautiful dark eyes and a head of dark hair. I was so happy; my little Slovak-named baby looked so Italian (that, we learned later, was mostly the jaundice.)

A year and a half later, he still has his beautiful dark brown eyes, but that head of dark hair is long gone. It was somehow (and I really don't have the faintest idea when this happened) replaced by a mop of sunny amber fluff. Sometimes it's almost red. Other times, very blonde.

I've gotten over my disappointment at losing the dark locks and I've grown quite fond of his hair. It's so fine and light-- so unlike my own. I've watched it get longer and longer, finally covering over the bald spot in the back, finally long enough to sweep to the side and tuck behind his ear.

I've been thinking for a while now that it needed a trim, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I made one appointment a few months back and then "forgot" to go. But lately, it's gotten a bit out of hand, and he started to look a bit like Gene Wilder. So today, we finally had it trimmed.

Pre-Snip

It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. He wasn't feeling too well, so he just sat there in a bit of a stupor. Didn't move once the whole time. And I managed not to cry as small bits of the hair he's worked so hard to grow floated gently to my knees.

Looking a Bit Out of It-- but Not Unhappy

I think I was most worried that suddenly he wouldn't look like a baby anymore. He doesn't, but then again, he hasn't really looked like a baby for quite some time now. I'm not sure when it happened, that transition from infant to child, but it didn't happen with this haircut. Maybe when he started walking, or started babbling, or started putting together sentences. Maybe it was in the middle of some night, while I was asleep, unable to witness the transformation. Who knows.

Handsome Little Man

The haircut helped the process along, but it certainly didn't start it. It's just one more marker-- one more milestone in that long progression of missed transformations that will, God willing, end in his adulthood. But it's a tangible milestone, and no matter how much he changes, how much that soft downy hair transforms into something unrecognizable, I will always have a few snips of sun-colored strands to remind me of this small, almost intangible moment.