Why I’m Not Cutting My Son’s Hair Anytime Soon

My son is almost 3, and I have never cut his hair. This is not for religious reasons. We are not Sikh. Although the Sikh’s belief that allowing one’s hair to grow naturally is a symbol of respect for the perfection of God’s creation, is a religious belief my agnostic heart could get behind.

No the reason, is in no way sacred, but completely profane. I haven’t cut it, simply because it’s too darn cute to touch. My son has the most perfect, well to me anyway, head of ringlets. Ringlets that wouldn’t look out of place on a cherub painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

But sadly, we’re not living in Renaissance Italy. We’re living in Kansas City. When we hit the pool this past summer, those ringlets submerged in water are dead straight and when fully extended his hair comes halfway down his back. Despite board shirts and rashguard top, my little cherub gets mistaken for a girl all the time. A few awkward exchanges ensue.

Not that he notices. He quickly found a way to keep those long locks out of his face by wearing goggles. No, those embarrassing moments are all between me and some other parent whose empty apology comes with eyes that seem to say “You ought to cut that boy’s hair.”

On some days when the humidity is low, (who would have thought I would come to love and rely on this city’s deadly humidity) and those curls are more wild Einstein than cherub, I wonder if they are right. Then it’s a steady stream of compliments that make me question my parenting choices. “Just look at those curls!”  “How darling.” “Love that hair.” And then I wonder if those compliments are genuine or rather like when we told people we were moving countries at eight months pregnant and people said “so brave,” “so courageous” and what they were really thinking (so they told me later) was “are you out of your mind’?” Maybe we were.

Back then, I didn’t stop to care what others thought. But these days, it’s a different story. Fear of censure on my parenting skills lurks at the back of my mind. Not enough to make me change what I do but enough to give me unnecessary inner dialogue –”does he look scruffy?” “Is he going to wind up confused about his gender?” and “Am I a bad parent?”

In short, this hair thing has become a microcosm of the entire parental judgment thing and here’s how the other half of the interior dialogue pans out: “Just because others make different choices doesn’t mean they are judging or even care what you do,” “who cares if he does question gender roles, the whole thing is pretty trite anyway” and finally ‘No, don’t be ridiculous. It’s just a hair cut.

So the nanosecond of self-doubt passes while I wet a hair brush and run it through his hair and hey presto, ringlets are back. And we’re out, having fun, making friends with me capturing those delicious curls on my iPhone for posterity.

pipc
Pip lives in Brookside with her 2 year old son, Archer, husband, Daniel and Goldendoodle pup, Milo. She was born in New Zealand, and lived in London, Paris and New York before discovering there is no place like home in Kansas City. Two years into her stateside adventure, she is still struggling to understand gun laws, healthcare and the political system – but from all accounts so are most people who were born here. However, Pip has developed a taste for KC BBQ, Baseball and the Doughnut Lounge – cocktails with Donuts, what is not to love? On most days you can find her at Union Station indulging her toddler’s passion for sustainable transport AKA Thomas the Tank Engine. Pip has a Masters in Sustainability and works part time for a food company on ethical supply chains.

4 COMMENTS

  1. My son had beautiful, long, ringlet laden hair until he was 2 and a half. He was mistaken for a girl more times than I can count, and I even encountered a stranger at a part who informed me I was scaring him for life. I didn’t cut his hair until he asked for it to be shorter! I love my little boy and his lovely locks!

  2. My son had beautiful, long, ringlet laden hair until he was 2 and a half. He was mistaken for a girl more times than I can count, and I even encountered a stranger at a park who informed me I was scarring him for life. I didn’t cut his hair until he asked for it to be shorter! I love my little boy and his lovely locks!

  3. I’m so with you! My son has beautiful curls too, and while I’ve had them trimmed I refuse to cut them off. And people compliment his hair all the time–it’s gorgeous! But at the end of the day, who cares, it’s hair!! People can be so judgmental, and it’s ridiculous–you can never please everyone.

  4. I am guilty of worrying about what people will think of my parenting skills as well. However, at the end of the day I always realize that as long as I was the best mom I could be “today” then why should it matter what other people think? Love this post!

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