Cole is nearly perfect in every way, of course.
But, his hair was in his eyes. When playing, he’d do that ‘thing’ you see older boys who’re growing out their hair doing – tilting back his head to see past the fringe of bangs in his eyes. When swimming, they’d really, well, bother ME. I always felt that could not be how he’d like them, wet and across his eyes. I probably swept his hair to the side 20 times a day to try and help him out.
However, he sure did look cute, and babyish.
See, this is my last baby. While I like the thought of eventually sleeping from when I CHOOSE to go to sleep until when I CHOOSE to wake, of regular grooming, of wearing clothes because I like the way they look instead of how easy they are to change multiple times a day because there is always someone smearing their hands, face, or worse on me, I also try very hard to remember this time is fleeting. I’m really not in much of a hurry for this guy to be a full-on kid. Sadly for him, he’ll be the baby to me, forever. It’s not only me – his big sister doesn’t want him to grow up, either.
But the hair. *sigh*
Cole tolerated the ‘nice lady’ misting his hair and combing it, even the snarl that always develops in his car seat (why I bother ever combing before we leave the house is beyond me). But when he heard the first ‘snip!’ noise from the scissors…
The building fear and uncertainty is visible in his eyes.
You just knew that was coming, right? That odd shape under his drape on the left of the photo is my hand, stroking his arm, where is stayed for about 5 minutes until he felt more secure that ‘the nice lady’ was not trying to cut him.
Cole’s a beloved little guy, showered with love, and generally very secure that Mama would not send him to certain death, so he calmed fairly quickly to a level of quiet concern. Also, Dora the Explorer was playing on a TV 3 feet away. These people know what they’re doing. :)
The stray clump of hair above his brow drove me crazy, but I know better than to mess with a baby who’s ‘keeping it together’ by touching his face. Better to have that on his head, than push him over the edge, I figure.
Cole was scared of the noise the trimmers made as she tried to clean up around his ears. We could tell he was about to ‘blow’ again, so ‘the nice lady’ put away the clippers and finished up with scissors.
What a handsome little guy.
When his Daddy saw it, his first words, after, “Why didn’t you tell me you were taking him to do that?” were, “He doesn’t look like a baby anymore.”
I know. *sob*
The only constant in life is change. And it happens ‘speedy quick’ with kids this age.