The first thing I heard the doctors say when I was pushing Octavian out of my body was, "Wow! Look at all the blonde hair!".
My first thought was, seriously, who fucking cares just get him out. While the same thought stuck around until he was, indeed, out from inside me, I was also confused- wait, he has blonde hair? umm, have you seen his dad? I swear it's his dad! And then I thought some more- well, that explains the heartburn. This better be some good hair.
All of this, before I even held him in my arms.
I have never known Octavian without hair. He has always had a full head of beautiful blonde hair with (on a good hair day) the most gorgeous ringlets. And, yes, worth every painful minute of heartburn. Most people that meet Octavian think he is a girl and some even ask why I haven't given him a "boy cut" yet. All I can say is, I love his hair too much. It's beautiful. He's lucky. (take it or leave it, folks!).
There are definitely days that I wish he had shorter hair. For example, after he gets done eating jam, which always, without fail, ends up smeared through his hair. After a nap, some outdoor play, and a car-ride, we've got some serious tangles to sort through. Hair maintaince, no big deal, right? wrong. Think wet cat in a bath tub. Any kind of brushing, washing, or rinsing leads to a complete meltdown, making the process oh so fun for the both of us.
This weekend we decided to take him to get his hair trimmed. His bangs were in his eyes and he was making it clear to us that it was bothering him, "hai eye (poking himself in the eye for effect) hai eye".
The process was pretty easy. They plopped him in a little fire engine seat and turned on Elmo for him to watch. Elmo distracted him for about 5 minutes and then he needed a little more persuasion with snacks, a train, a bell and stickers. But, in the end, there were no tears, just lots of "Up, mama...no mo...all done...no mo".
I only had the hair dresser take off an inch or so, but no more bangs in his eyes. And no, no boy-cut for this kid.