a moment of silence for our fallen hero...

...(and then a cheer, once i check my perspective!)

by now, you probably know that i am over-the-top in love with atticus' hair.  it is so thick, and has these big, beautiful natural highlights from the sun this summer.  plus, it sometimes looks like this:

see?  OB. SESSED.  why else would i have posted like eleventy million glamour shots of my son, plus the one where he's screaming?  i love this child's hair and run my fingers through it all the livelong day.

it's not that we haven't experienced the loss of his hair before.  (i think you can see where this is going.)  there was that one time before easter when i insisted that atticus needed a haircut, and insisted that the longest guard on the buzzers wouldn't take too much off the top, and insisted it would still look good.  against todd's better judgment, he listened to me, and atticus ended up with a crew cut for easter.  a resurrection day crew cut.  happy and sad day.  todd was super ticked at the fact that he allowed himself to be nagged into making choices based on my poor judgment call.

but anyway, it had finally started to grow back out!  and lately, we've been parting it to the side and kind of Fifties-Basketball-Coach-ing it.  (DO YOU SEE HOW MUCH THOUGHT WE PUT INTO HIS HAIR?!  IT IS BORDERING ON VANITY, AND IT ISN'T EVEN OUR OWN HAIR.)   and it's been looking pretty good, all while we wait for it to get long enough to rooster.  (not an all-out rooster, mind you; more subtle than that.  like, a rooster that also dances ballet and has a 9-5 job fixing copiers.)  (SEE?! TOO MUCH THOUGHT.)

but then came last week's amputation incident with the grass shears.

i won't go into any more detail than that, nor will i post pictures, as i am still in mourning.  i can't bear to stare at the chunk of hair we found in the garbage can, or face the reality lurking under our best attempts to camouflage the damage with an opposite-direction part.  mostly, i really hate remembering how hard atticus sobbed when he told us what he'd done.

actually, that memory alone makes the whole thing almost wonderful.  not that i love to see my kid bawling, obviously.  but i loved the reminder that he is still so tiny.  he's still a little kid that cuts his own hair without thinking.  he is still a little kid that buries his face in todd's shirt when he's overwhelmed with sadness and regret.  

he's still a baby.

that's a hard thing to remember when he's staring down the barrel of his sixth birthday, and he's all long and leggy and kid-muscular.  it's a hard thing to remember when he's usually so calculated and responsible. it's hard to remember when his name literally means fatherlike and he is so atticus.  and it's especially hard to remember when his hair is all coiffed like a twenty-something's and looks better than mine on any given day.

so i, for one, am embracing the literally-lawn-mowered haircut in all its choppy childishness.  it goes so well with those perfect little baby teeth that are starting to look too small in his mouth.  i'm going to grab ahold of this last little season of babyhood before it's gone and his hair is all perfect again.

so, long live the new baby-bangs!

1 comment :

todd said...

these are really fun days.

i love that we get to be his parents.