So G has strong feelings about her hair.   Mostly those feelings go something like this:   DON’T TOUCH IT.   If you choose to touch her hair, god love you, you will be treated to an assortment of shrieks, screams, wails, kicks, and crys that could test any person’s dedication to good grooming.   Morning hair-brusing rituals generally look something like this:

Me (chasing G around the house while holding a brush):   Come here!   We’re late!

G:   No!

Me (catching G):   It’s the soft brush!   See? It doesnt hurt!

G (wailing, kicking, and squirming):   No! Don’t brush me!   it hurts!

G then squirms away and the chase resumes again until I decide we have both suffered enough and give up.

G has had one or two previous “haircuts” in her life, which have consisted of bang-trimming using a pair of clippers with the only goal of getting her hair out of her face and not stabbing her with a pair of scissors as she struggels.   Her protestations to even this modest attempt at a haircut have led to some very poor results.     ( See our CO pictures from August 2008, on her bangs trimming).

So upon hearing that Deb has successfully gotten Mac’s hair cut by a professional a couple of times and that could use a trim now, I jumped on the opportunity to let someone else take a crack at her.       I really wanted to see if the pros had any secret formula to getting her to behave.   Turns out they don’t.

We go to the salon, which is a kid-centric place with bright colors and cartoons playing in the waiting room.   Luckily, they were slow so we didnt have to wait.   G and I go to one chair, and Mac and Deb go to another.   We strap G in, and the fun begins.

The hairdresser begins to spray and comb and try and get 2 years of tangles and dreadlocks out of her hair.   As you might imagine, this does not go well.   There is crying.   There is screaming (“She’s hurting me!”).   There is much wriggling.   There is begging (“please mommy no!”)   It is sad…very sad.   The hairdresser handles it like a pro.   She turns on a video.   This slows G down a little.   She gives G a lollypop.   This works for awhile, but she has a lot of tangles to deal with.   The hairdresser pins down G’s legs with her own…. G is now immobilized.   We get a second lollypop out.   Finally, the actual cutting begins.

The hairdresser politely admonishes me about the dismal state of G’s hair.   She points out that it will grow faster if it’s in good condition.   It will tangle less if it is in good condition.   It will be curlier if it is in good condition.   II feel like a dirtbag for not getting it cut sooner.   Finally, she finishes.     G is exhausted from the struggle.   The hairdresser is victorious.     G and Mackenzie get a souvenier rubber duckie as their prizes for being good girls (G’s is much undeserved)

I notice the next day that G’s hair is, in fact, less tangled, curlier, and easier to brush since the haircut.   The hairdresser was right.