A Hairy Situation

It’s summer and around here that means it time for summer haircuts, for the boys. When Nico was younger, and before he had an opinion about his appearance, he would  get a buzz cut for the summer. This was a good solution since he has a head of hair that becomes a soggy mop after swimming, and a wool coat during our long, hot days.  Now that Nico is older,  he still gets a shorter cut but he does not like the shaved look, so he no longer gets a buzz cut.

However, since Diego is only 6 years-old, I figured that I could still have some say about his hair. Boy, I have never been more wrong about anything in my life. Maybe it’s the influence of his older siblings, or maybe it’s the Justin Bieber and Big Time Rush look, but Diego has definite ideas about his hair. He did not want a buzz cut. No way. I didn’t realize how much his hair meant to him, until this weekend.

Juan had to run some errands and decided to take Diego with him so they could stop and get a haircut.  First, they went to the pet store. The pet store had its usual weekend dog and cat adoption fair. And as usual, Juan sent me a text which read “Can we get her?” and attached a photo of one of the dogs.   Our dog,  Mischief , died last November, and our family has been missing a dog in our lives.  But right now? Life is really busy, we may travel on a vacation.  I texted Juan back. “Cute dog, but not now.”

Moving along, Juan’s next stop was Supercuts. Juan told the hairstylist that Diego needed a summer haircut. The hairstylist talked with Juan and another hairstylist and they agreed they would use the buzzers at a level 3, but somebody forgot to tell Diego. I am sure if they had,  he would have told them he didn’t want his hair short.  By the time the hairstylist began buzzing the top of Diego’s hair, it was too late. Diego was mortified. Juan thought it looked cute and smiled at him. This was absolutely the wrong reacation because Diego understood Juan’s smile to mean he was laughing at him. Then,  the meltdown started. Big, fat tears rolling down his face. Sobs so thick he choked on them. The hairstylist tried soothing him. Juan tried to calm him.  When he realized it was past the point of no return, he carried Diego out of there and drove home.  On the way, Juan called me in a panic. He warned me to tell the kids at home not to say a thing when they got home. I went outside and met them in the driveway. Diego’s eyes were swollen, and he was hiccupping from his sobs.  He refused to get out of the car, even though it was 90 degrees outside. I promised him he could go through the back door and bypass his sisters inside. We got him in the shower and he continued to cry,  curled up in a ball on the shower floor. I could not reason with him. Finally, I told him he had three choices:

1) Stay in the bathroom until his hair grew out.

2) Act like his haircut was not big deal and then  others would not think it was a big deal.

3) Wear a hat.

He considered number 1 but decided since he could not play x-Box in the bathroom, locking himself inside was not a viable option. He completely dismissed number 2.  He decided that number 3 was the best option, but only if he could wear his army hat.

Of course, I agreed and brought him the hat.  (He has not taken that hat off yet, even in church.)  Juan had also told Diego that he would take him back to the pet store and look again at the dog he had seen earlier. Juan promised to buy Diego ice cream too. (I know, it’s a lot. Don’t judge me.)  So, between the hat, and the promise of ice cream, we finally stopped the haircut meltdown. Oh, and  that return trip to the pet store? Well, let’s just say that even though I knew we’d eventually get another dog, I thought we should wait a little while longer. But, how could I have said “Not now” to this face:

And this face.

Meet Molly.


My Blessing and My Curse

I have recently discovered a couple of beauty items that I just love. One is for my nails and the other is for my hair.

I have the good fortune, or good genes, to be blessed with strong, healthy fingernails and hair. My hair grows quickly and I have always had a lot of it. Even now,  when I am at an age that most women begin to experience some hair loss,  my hair has become, as my hair stylist says,  “normal.”   However,  even though the hair gods have been kind to me in some ways,  they have not smiled upon me when it comes to hair color.  You see, I am losing that too, that is –my color.  I started greying in my early 20’s and have been fighting it ever since.  (My 12 year-old son also has good hair genes and has a healthy head of hair, but I recently spied two grey hairs on his head!)  If you combine the premature greying of my hair and its fast growth rate, you can see I have a real problem trying to stay ahead of my greying shimmering roots. I have had to spend more and more time and money to achieve my “natural” look.  I have toyed with the idea of letting my hair go au natural, but I still feel too young and I am far too vain to allow myself to do that.  For now, I put up with frequent trips to the salon for my color, or enlist my husband’s help for the home color touch-ups. But I recently found a new weapon in my fight against silver roots.  It allows me to extend time between salon trips, and keep me from donning the plastic gloves and staining my bathroom and towels,  with hair color from home do-it-myself jobs.  This secret weapon looks a lot like a  crayon, but I consider it more to be a magic marker:

The other asset that good genes have bestowed on me are strong fingernails. They grow quickly and are quite strong.  I used to get a professional manicure, but, lately I have given up paying for them.  I think professional manicure is a waste of money on me, because I don’t have the time to wait for the polish to dry completely.  I ruin the manicure before I am out the salon door.  Inevitably, I will sit through the cuticle clipping, filing, shaping, buffing, painting, but the moment I get up from the salon chair, I smudge the polish reaching for car keys, credit card or the door handle!  Besides with all the housework, and keyboarding I do,  the manicure starts to chip away after one day.  Because I am cheap frugal, I save my money and don’t pay for a professional manicure unless it’s a special occasion, like the trip to NY I took three weeks ago. The morning I was leaving for my trip I went to get a manicure. As usual the manicurist tried to sell me extras:

  “Hot oil cuticle treatment?” No.

“Neck and shoulder massage?” No.

“Callous Remover?” Hmm?  No.

“Gel Polish?” What?

The manicurist pitched me the gel manicure. She told me it would last much longer than a regular manicure. It would cost slightly more, $13, and take a bit longer,  since they had to put my nails under a UV light between polish coats. I thought I was running short on time so I said no. Then, as it is my prerogative, I changed my mind and went for the big splurge. I am glad I did. That was three weeks ago, and here are my nails today:

My nails have grown out,  so it’s time for me to remove the gel polish, but the polish has not chipped.  Three weeks later and  it is going strong. I loved it!  I don’t know when I will get another manicure, since I don’t really have  a special event coming up, however,  when I do get my next manicure, I am going to pay the extra money and spend the extra time for a gel manicure.

Now if only they could come up with something that makes the color in my hair last as long the gel polish on my nails!