Jensen's Summer Look

About three weeks ago Jensen asked me, out of the blue, to cut her hair. Notice that she didn't ask for "a haircut," because I might have assumed she wanted me to take her somewhere to have someone who knows what the heck they're doing cut her hair--no, she wanted me to cut it. Jensen doesn't do hair salon cuts. . .or doctor's visits. . .or dental cleanings. . .or anything else involving a professional someone messing with her. Even her Uncle Jared, her dentist, has to strap her to a medieval torture device to work on her teeth (granted, we tried everything else anyone could think of first, and she did settle right down once she was in the papoose board). It was that or let her teeth rot out of her mouth or spend close to $3,000 to have her worked on in the hospital. She seems to have come through it mentally unscathed. But again I digress. When Jensen was three and she took it upon herself to cut her own hair--and her cousin Audrey's hair--there was nothing I could do to fix it since it was cut above her ear on one side with bangs cut about two centimeters from her scalp. She looked like she had lost a fight with Johnny Depp (as Edward Scissorhands, Sweeney Todd, or Captain Jack--take your pick--each wielded something mighty sharp). I had to take her to my friend Sarah to make her look decent, and I knew, even though I did my best mom-talk for a whole 24 hours leading up to it, that she wasn't going to take the hair-fixing thing sitting down--so to speak. She didn't. She screamed bloody murder and did her best to be impaled by the scissors as she squirmed and writhed around in the chair. In the end, Sarah and I had to settle for a lop-sided bob with a few stray hairs that I had to try to trim off while she slept over the next few days. Unfortunately, we were headed to Arizona a week later. Oh well. That's Jensen.

Sooooo, I have trimmed the ends of her hair once since then, and it was touch and go even for me doing it. She wiggled and got teary-eyed and cussed a little (just teasing--she does speak like a teenager, but a teenager with clean language :) ). I never expected last month to hear her ask to have me cut her hair, but ask she did. Now, you can ask my older girls about this and they will verify, but I really drag my feet when it comes to having my girls' hair cut. I don't know if it's because I look back at pictures of my perm-damaged, curly, shoulder length, 80's hair and am living vicariously through them with their gorgeous straight, long, shiny hair, or what, but I don't want them to get their hair cut . . .ever. I managed to put Jensen off by telling her I wanted her cousin Lacey to be able to see her long, pretty hair before I cut it, but Lacey got to town on June 30, and Jensen has been pestering me to cut it ever since. So, I broke down and trimmed it. Sadly, between my inexperience, her unending twisting and moving, and me using kitchen shears, the cut was a little ragged. I finally broke down and bought haircutting scissors the next day (figured I may as well make the investment) and fixed it as best I could. It's not great, but she likes it, although she tells people that I was only supposed to cut two inches and I cut "way too much more." You get what you pay for, I tell her.

Here she is, before and after. . .sniff, sniff. And by the way, there is another catch-up post after this one if you're interested in reading on.

Jensen and Shaina with their long, gorgeous locks.

The deed is done. . .