I've been trying to talk Ike into a "real" haircut for awhile now (YES IT'S TRUE OH YE HATERZ OF TEH HAIRZ), but he's staunchly and solidly refused. The long blond hair is part of his identity and self-image now, so even when he's allowed me to trim his bangs and mayyyyybe take a little length off, I have to repeatedly promise that I won't cut the "long thing over his ears." Otherwise he won't "look like Ike." He watches everything I do in the mirror and demands that I show him what I've cut off the back, just in case I'm trying to go rogue.
I've created a monster.
The thing is, I'm lousy at home haircuts, especially now that Ike's forgiving curls aren't around to mask my uneven trims. I'm so afraid of messing something up I end up barely taking any length off, and layers? Angles? Wut? Is this math?
We took Noah and Ezra for haircuts this weekend, and stopped for lunch at a restaurant first. As Ike was heading to the table -- dressed in head to toe blue, wearing his light-up Captain America shoes and a Superman shirt with a cape -- a waiter walked by and said, "Oh hey there, Supergirl!"
Haha, whoops. That's been happening a lot more since we moved, interestingly enough. Long-haired little boys aren't nearly as common here, which...look, if it's not bothering HIM, I certainly DGAF and am perfectly fine correcting people, but I feel like if he IS going to be some long-haired style pioneer, he should still have a halfway decent looking cut.
So after his brothers' got their haircuts, we started campaigning and bargaining with Ike about getting his hair cut. Not too short! We promise! Just...ugh, how about some straight lines and maybe some actual shape?
Ike sobbed. SOBBED. Big fat tears rolled down his face as he insisted he only liked haircuts at home. And I remembered why I've been cutting his hair at home ever since the LAST time I made him get a professional cut, because oh my God. This kid fake-cries over a lot of things, but I can't handle that kind of pure abject misery.
Finally, after a group effort from every stylist in the place to make him happy, a promise of as many lollipops as he could fit in his coat pockets and some YouTube on my phone, we coaxed him into the chair.
He whipped around and looked at the sweet and SUPER PATIENT stylist and stuck out a threatening finger. "NOT THE LONG THINGS OVER MY EARS," he ordered, loud and perfectly clear. "HAIR LIKE IKE, NOT HAIR LIKE MY BROTHERS."
(Big shout-out to everyone at the Sport Clips in Ellicott City, which I admit we wandered into somewhat randomly because It Was Right Next To Where We Ate Lunch And Took Walk-Ins, but they were so AWESOME with all of our kids, including Noah [who still has a bunch of sensory issues when getting his hair cut, sigh], so we'll definitely be back.)
The end results are...well, anti-climatic, if you were expecting a drastic Hairz To Men haircut.
We honored his wishes to keep it long, and he is super happy with his new shaggy little surfer boy cut.
(STILL SO BLOND THO.)
(STILL SO MUCH WHO-ME? TROUBLE ALSO.)
(YUP. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!)