Mom With “Hair PTSD” Takes Her Kids For Haircuts

I don’t pretend to be normal in any respect, especially not when it comes to hair.  My hair makes me crazy– I actually started seeing my therapist almost 11 years ago when I became obsessed with the notion that I had cut my hair short because I was afraid of intimacy.  Oh, and I was suicidal, but still, there was a very real hair theme that needed to be addressed.  I diagnosed myself with hair PTSD, which is not yet in the DSM-V.

Moreover, when it comes to hair stylists, I am a total slut. I have no loyalty; I have never gone to the same stylist more than 2 times in my adult life.  I hold the stylist responsible for the fact that I don’t have Kate Middleton’s hair (or her figure).  In my defense, my mom has some hair baggage too– she’s been to every hair salon in Dallas, Texas, where there are just as many hair salons as street corners.

So it should come as no surprise that I am a little neurotic about my kids’ hair.  I didn’t want either of them to get their hair cut.  Ever. I wanted Simon to be like Kate Hudson’s daughter son, Ryder, who has long, flowing locks.  I somehow had the idea that moms who let their sons’ hair grow long are the free spirits of the mothering world.  They are the mothers who exist outside of our culture’s destructive gender roles and transcend the antiquated notions about normative beauty and appearance.

So, you can imagine I felt like a big, fat, feminist failure when I made an appointment for Simon to get his hair cut.

But for the love of Betty Friedan, he couldn’t see because his bangs were in his face, which didn’t seem so RAH! RAH! GENDER-FREE WORLD! when he couldn’t see what the hell he was eating.

I also made a deal with Jeff early on: He could be in charge of Simon’s hair, but I am in charge of Sadie’s. That was supposed to be the arrangement as our family went to Snippets for Simon’s hair cut with our cameras charged and our hearts full of expectation.

Just a little off the top, Ma'am

Just a little off the top, Ma’am

When Simon got in the chair, I felt a spasm of panic: “No! Do not cut the little curls at the back of his neck!” I cried.

Jeff was busy managing Sadie who was trying to drink the shampoo, so I quietly told the stylist to just trim Simon’s bangs.  She agreed and in a few snips she was done– before Jeff could protest.

However, next thing I know, Sadie was sitting in a chair with Simon’s stylist running her fingers through her hair.  “What just happened? Hold the fuck up! I didn’t authorize this! I want her hair to GROW GROW GROW!”

Too late.  Sadie was discussing her hair with the stylist; both of them were ignoring me.  So, I did what any insane, Texas-born woman with decades of hair PTSD would do: I engaged in some stress eating.  The only thing in my purse was two peaches, so I ate them both, pits included, as my baby’s tresses fell to the floor.

Why is Mommy crying and asking for starches right now?

Why is Mommy crying and eating a peach pit right now?

Who taught her this move?

Who taught her this move?

I tried to be cool, which isn’t easy when your digestive system is working on two peach pits.  Jeff seemed to be enjoying my agony a little too much.

Snapping pictures, trying to keep my shit together

Snapping pictures, trying to keep my shit together

I almost died from the stress of the whole experience and it may take a while to recover from the breaches of trust in my marriage, not to mention the hurting I put on my GI track.

But, in the end, everyone’s hair looked great.  Except for mine, which is why I wear this hat EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Happy Hair Day (or hat day in my case)

Happy Hair Day (or hat day in my case)


21 thoughts on “Mom With “Hair PTSD” Takes Her Kids For Haircuts

  1. First, your children are ADORABLE!!

    My husband handle’s my son’s hair, but mostly because I don’t care and he does. When he was 2 I tried to give him a crew cut and he ended up bald. 100% shaved head for the summer. But it did make bath time easier.

  2. My mom permed my hair when I was 6 months old because it wouldn’t do anything. (you want to talk therapy?) Despite it, I love my hair. I’m like a lion defining myself by my mane (which ironically is short…& female lions don’t have manes but you know what I’m saying…). By age 8 I curled my own Farah Fawcett style every day before school. (seriously…who arms an 8 yr old with a hot curling iron?…my mom) Sometimes I wonder if I subconsciously chose my mate for his great hair to ensure our children would also have great hair. They do. And they understand a good stylist can make up for all that’s wrong in the world. No honey…we can’t go get a strep test today…we have hair appointments. Maybe tomorrow when we look better. (just kidding. Sort of.)

    • Well my mate is bald so not sure what that means. And you have perfect hair. Not kidding. It’s perfect. And what’s up with your mom perming your baby hair? There’s alot going on in that picture in my head.

  3. You are SO FUNNY! “For the love of Betty Friedan'”! And oh, basically every other part of this fantastic post. Here’s the deal–if I had a hat like that, I’d wear it every day too.

  4. You all are so cute it’s disgusting. I too, share your anxiety over the hair cuts, but I can’t commiserate with you yet because I can’t stop being jealous of how adorable all three of you are! That is such a cute picture of you stressing. It’s all love, no neurosis — pat Jeff on the back for capturing that perfect angle!

  5. When my first daughter was born, she needed intravenous, which meant they shaved part of her head to put the needle in. For months, she had this clear rectangular shape with no/little hair. But guess what – it all came back in curly!

  6. I know… I decided it was time for Greg’s first haircut when his cousin gave him a nice new hair do that included pony tails. It gets easier. : )

  7. I’ve been meaning to get my little girl’s hair cut (TRIMMED!!!) now for a few months, however, today we converted her crib to a toddler bed, so Mama need some time to recover from that monumental change. You’re not the only one who’s crazy around here.

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