Sitting in the chair, holding my son, trying to keep him calm for what is to come. Hearing the sounds of the electric hair buzzer puts me back to reality. All I can do is sit there and watch in the mirror as my youngest son, slowly becomes a ‘big boy’.
Adam, my youngest son, who is only 2, is my last child and I am praying not my last. Both my children had incredible curls while growing up, which made it hard to ever make the decision to cut it. In my mind, cutting my sons hair, meant that he was no longer my little baby. The little 8 lb. baby that I brought home from the hospital. The little boy who would hold his hands up and say “Mama”, so I would pick him up. At some point I knew that it wasn’t just the curls that I was sad to lose.. It was my son growing up.
Even though my son will always be my little baby, he will slowly grow up just like every child does. He will begin talking, wanting more independence, go to school, play sports, get a job, have his first girlfriend, get married and have his own children. Although some of these milestones may seem to be lifetimes away, I know that time can runaway from you and the next thing you know, they are all grown up.
Talking about a simple haircut may be silly to some, but when you are a mother, you know that when milestones hit, you can become a complete mess. The fact that he is my last child, as of now, makes this harder to handle, more than my first born. Will I ever get to hold another newborn again that is my own? Will I ever get to hear those coo’s and being able to rock back in forth in the middle of night in that old wooden rocking chair?
As I sit with my son, I finally hear the words, “Okay, last piece!” I look up at the mirror of a little boy who is the spitting image of my oldest son. He sits and stares at himself in the mirror with a look of satisfaction. I watch as the hair stylist cuts the last piece. I look down and watch the last curl fall to the floor. That is when I knew that my little baby, was forever my ‘big boy’.
