Gettin' Pretty

My hairdresser is a grandma without grand kids. Her son, and only child, passed away 10-12 years ago, and so she likes to enjoy her client's kids when she can. She specifically asks me to bring in my kids, and has since I was pregnant. She loves to play with them, and snuggle, and find out how they're growing and what they can do. She had been seeing Maia every couple months since she was born, but I hadn't brought Maia since before Parker's arrival.

This time I (perhaps unwisely) thought I'd try to bring both kids for my overdue haircut. Parker was actually fairly content in his car seat for most of the time, but when he decided he'd had enough of the car seat without it moving, and maybe he was hungry, he decided to scream until the receptionist (who has a 3-year-old at home) picked him up. Then content once more.

Maia was, no surprise, BUSY. Verbally and otherwise. She sits on my lap during the shampoo and asks a million questions. "Whass she doing? She washing yer hair? She all done? She have a shower for your hair?" She had very little interest in the activities that I'd brought for her, so it was creative solutions by myself and my stylist. That said, Maia did very well and was quite well behaved until it was time to go.

She wanted no part of leaving. She was spraying water on a towel and that was a lot of fun. So we saw a 30 second, typical toddler tantrum with the arching of the back and kicking of the legs so you can't pick them up (or hold onto them if they're already in your arms). That was followed up by her typical: "I lay down right here," fingers-in-mouth, sulking.

So, my stylist asked Maia if she could comb her hair. This bought me a minute to get Parker in his car seat, pay and get my next appointment scheduled. When I came back to collect her, she was having her hair blown "dry" and loving it. We play games with the hair dryer at home, too, so there was really no fear there. So my stylist thought... well, let's see if we can make her hair extra pretty... and pulled out the curling iron to flip her little curls up. Maia did a great job, fearless as usual. She even sat relatively still, and was fascinated.

Parker waited patiently. Again. (Notice the absense of socks. Those are generally a casualty of Droolfest II: Getting My Toes To My Mouth. It's wet sock-land these days!)

There. All Pretty. "I get my hair cut momma?" I think we can be fairly confident she will handle her first hair cut (which I think may be soon) without significant fear. Yay!

And rest assured, I will bring a real camera, instead of using the poor quality camera on my phone.