Keep the Shears Away

This time last year I didn't have much hair on my head, because I had volunteered to shave it all off in the name of charity for St. Baldrick's Foundation. I had started writing a big blog post about this four and a half months ago, but it got pushed to the wayside for reasons I don't even recall. My original intention with that unfinished entry was to pimp out my friend Ben, whom I had convinced to do the same thing I did, which was a bigger sacrifice for him because he likes his hair much more than I do my own.

Going bald is liberating. July 2013.

This morning I found myself contemplating hair again, because since the time I shaved all mine off I have gone back to get one trim. In one year, I only got my hair cut once. I know people who follow that "every six weeks" advice and go see their hair stylist all the freaking time, but I'm just not that kind of person. My hair doesn't matter much to me at all. In fact, when it starts getting long, it starts to annoy the crap out of me, and I contemplate drastic measures such as shaving it all off again.

My daughter does not share my sentiments about hair and doesn't loathe her own the way I do mine. Hers hands freely in her face most of the time, and it's a fight on the best of days just to get her to let me or my husband comb it. I don't blame her. I remember being young and getting the worst tangles in my hair, and my dad having to sit me down in front of the couch with a hair brush that he'd work and tug and pull and hack at for hours until it was clear.

I realized this morning that in just a little over two months, my baby girl's going to be turning 4, and I have never once cut her hair. All that mess you see in the picture above? Still those gorgeous locks she was born with. She has never had a trim in her life. 

We've discussed it before. I've asked her if she wants a hair cut, but she flip-flops between answering me yes and no, and it's never a subject she brings up on her own. So I've just never had it done. I haven't seen any reason to. There's nothing wrong with her hair. I think it's beautiful. It falls perfectly in a natural part on the left side of her head without having to really put any work into it. Sometimes she lets me put it up in a "high pony," and for ballet we always put it up in a bun, but otherwise she's perfectly content to sweep it out of her eyes while she's running around having fun.

My wild child riding a pony for the first time at the 2014 Summit County Fair.

Her hair comes up in conversation sometimes, especially with the in-laws. Her grandmother (husband's mom) has asked before, seemingly innocently, "When are you going to get her hair cut?" My answer remains the same: whenever she wants to get her hair cut. 

My niece commented once about how you have to get your hair cut regularly for it to stay healthy. Apparently this is something her mother told her, but I don't believe it's the least bit true. Personally, I think it's something hair stylists tell their clients to convince them they need to come back "at least every six weeks for a trim," just so they can have a steady income. Propaganda.

This morning I found myself Googling "why get a haircut" and not being able to find any hits, except, of course, from hair stylists. People who make their living by cutting hair, or selling beauty products to make your hair shiny or bold or not frizzy or... They've tried to sell me a lot of crap in those salons, and almost convince me every single time, but I'm sorry... I'm not going to pay $20 for a bottle of shampoo that's only going to last me a week when I could spend $2 on one that will last me a month or two instead.

My niece Sydney, who will be (holy crap) 15 in a couple of days, had her baby hair for the longest time, too. I'm pretty sure no shears had touched her head even by the time she starred in my wedding 11 years ago as one of two flower girls. Her curls were the most adorable thing in the world. I always thought she was, up until I had my own kids, anyway. 

My niece when she was tiny like Lilah, but obviously with bangs.

Every time I think about taking my daughter to get her hair cut, I remember this woman I knew when I was a teenager. For the life of me, I can never remember her name, but she was the sweetest woman who knew all of us, and helped out on all the school musical sets with costumes and make-up and all that. I talked to her quite a bit my Junior and Senior years because I was the Stage Manager for two of our high school productions (The King and I and then Bye, Bye Birdie).

What I remember most about this woman, besides her unending kindness, was the fact that she had never, in her entire life, ever, got her hair cut. She always wore it in this long, tight braid, and it was so long that she had to fold it up and secure it back up at the back of her head. I think of her whenever I contemplate taking Lilah to the salon to get her "First Haircut" that seems to be such an important milestone for parents everywhere. Not for me, though.

Until the day comes that I'm being begged and whined to for a haircut, I'm just going to let my daughter's hair grow wild and untamed like her personality. It's not hurting her, or anyone else. I don't think it looks "unhealthy" or anything either. Though it is a pain in the ass to find her hairs in everything all over the house, including dinner sometimes. We know it's hers, because she's the only person in the house with long hair right now!

Also, she's blonde and I'm not.

For now, we're skipping that "milestone" in favor of natural beauty. Which reminds me... Next article I should talk to you all about make-up. Yeah. Three years old and we're already in love with cosmetics. Thanks so much, ballet recital!