It all started innocently enough. We pulled into the parking lot on Saturday afternoon to get Madeline’s hair cut. We’re almost through that hideous growing-bangs-out phase, but it was looking a little scraggly and rather than go for the ragamuffin look, it needed some cleaning up. As I was parking the car, Nick said “I want a mohawk!”
You do?
“Yes, I think so. Well, I don’t know.”
I think it would be fun for the summer, but it’s up to you.
By the look on his face, it was clear he was torn. He really wanted it but was afraid to make that leap.
Oh that face just makes me love her that much more.
As Madeline’s hair cut was underway, I told him if he got it done and I had enough hair to donate to Locks of Love, I would get mine lopped off too.
The hairstylist started paying closer attention.
“How much do I need to donate?”
Nine inches.
I didn’t think I had enough. I thought I was close, and although I have gone back and forth on the do-I-or-don’t-I decision for years, if I was going to go for it, I wanted to make sure that much of a cut could make some difference to someone else. I mean, to be that close and be a half-inch shy didn’t seem to make much sense to me.
The ruler came out. There was enough to cut and donate without leaving me, well, looking like Nick.
I looked at him. What do you think?
He nodded.
The stylist looked at me. “Are you sure, Mom?”
I nodded. Yes. Quick, before I change my mind.
I didn’t want to force Nick into getting the mohawk. That was purely his decision, and I knew he really wanted it. I wanted to, instead, show him that we need to just leap sometimes. And the best way to do that is by example, of course.
And so we leapt together.
Nick’s Before:
Nick’s After:
He could not be happier with it. He spends time every morning, spraying, gelling, getting it just so. It totally suits him.
Madeline’s After:
Last night, I hired a babysitter for Madeline so Nick and I could go out together. I think one-on-one time with each of the kids is huge. For them. For me. And even though it takes a bit of effort to make it happen, we’re all better for it.
I’m looking forward to our date tonight, I told Nick late yesterday afternoon.
“With who?” he asked.
With you, silly.
“Mom! It’s not a date! It’s just you and me.”
Oh it totally is. I can have a date with my kid. You’re somebody special to me and I love you.
“Whatever. But no…”
No, no kissing. Well maybe on the cheek.
…