The Haircut

Kid One got her hair cut yesterday.
It's a lovely bob, between her chin and her shoulders, very stylish and very easy.
For us, this was a big deal.
Pre-haircut, her think, wavy hair spilled more than halfway down her back. When it was clean and brushed, it was beautiful.
But it was hard to maintain. Kid One has lots of hair, and with it being so long, washing it was difficult for her to do by herself. If we washed it at night, it would still be wet in the morning. If I tried to blow dry it for her, I felt like my arm would fall off before it was done.
Brushing it had a way of setting our mornings off on the wrong foot. She would make a valiant effort, but she couldn't get the layers underneath combed out. If she did it herself more than one day, it would develop snarls that could be compared to the Gordian knot. So most mornings I would brush it, and I would start to hear the litany of "Ouch! That hurts, Mom! Are you almost done? You're hurting me!"
Keep in mind that I was never trying to hurt -- only to get her hair brushed as gently as possible before school or camp or wherever she had to be. So my litany was, "I'm sorry. I know. I'll be done when I stop brushing."
For the last several months, she's been talking about getting her cut. She's looked at styles and decided to do it and decided not to do it.
Finally, it was time. She wanted it done before school starts on Wednesday, so off we went to the salon.
The stylist looked at the pictures Kid One brought with and made a couple of suggestions to make them work with Kid One's face, then braided her hair into four thick plaits and snipped them all off and handed them to me.
Then she got to work on a style that can be blown straight and curled under, or allowed to dry in its natural waves. Brushing time is minimal.
Kid One looked a little nervous in the chair, but smiled when it was done. She keeps looking in the mirror, like she's seeing something else, and swinging her hair around. "It's so freakin' weird!" she said.
And as soon as we got home, she made me throw away those four braids. She was ready to move on.