The Day Mommy Cried

I'm eagerly awaiting the delivery of my kids' school pictures this year. The proofs actually looked pretty good. Maybe this year's pictures can go on the mantel.

Last year's pictures were a total bust.

My daughter was to have her second grade pictures taken early on a September, Monday morning. She had been bugging me for a couple of weeks to get her hair cut. But I hadn't had the time or extra cash to take her to our stylist.

So on that Sunday afternoon, she took matters into her own hands.

She didn't just snip a few stray locks here and there. She cut hair off to her hairline randomly all over her head.

Half of her bangs? Gone.

Half of the long hair in back that we'd been trying to grow since she was a straggly-haired toddler? Gone.

Mommy's sanity? Gone.

I was getting them ready to take them out for a treat that evening when I suddenly noticed that something looked a bit off. She must have realized while she was cutting that things hadn't gone well because she hid the cut hair and never said anything to me about it.

She had bad timing. My husband was away then and my daughter and I had been struggling to get along. She had been pulling stunts and driving me crazy for weeks This little episode sent me over the edge.

I cried that day.

I went into the bathroom, shut the door, and sobbed my heart out.

I cried for the loss of her hair. I remember feeling so bad for her when she was little because she never had enough hair for all the cute styles and bows that her friends had. We had really been working at growing her hair out. And then to have her butcher it? I was sad.

But I cried more for the fact that my daughter was acting out and being so secretive. I felt like our relationship was crumbling right before my eyes. Who was this child? And what did she do with my sweet, little girl?

My kids still refer to that day as the day that mommy cried. It may be the only time they've ever really seen me cry. I think it was shocking to them that they could effect my emotions that way. I felt horrible about the whole thing.

I couldn't get her an appointment with our stylist until the next Thursday. But I think having to go to school like that for a few days may have taught her a lesson. Our stylist was our savior. She turned my daughter's masterpiece into an adorable little bob.

For which my daughter still get compliments. She was a star at school that Friday. Teachers and students even came by her classroom just to see her new haircut. For months, everywhere we went, people would comment on it.

That sort of ruined the life lesson I had hoped she was learning. But she did look really cute.

Now she has decided that she wants to grow her hair out again. She wants to be able to wear ponytails and braids like her friends.

And I'm actually a little sad. That will teach me to cry in the bathroom.

I knew that someday I would look back and find the humor in the story of her cutting her own hair. But I never expected to look back and be grateful for her daring!

Maybe I'll be able to talk her back into the bob.