Kate cut her hair today. She took a good two inches of the right side of her hair. We're lucky it's not very noticeable and all I have to do is even up her layers.
She was so proud of herself when she did it too. She held up her hair and said, "Mom, look! My hair was too long so I cut it!"
When she saw that I was mad that she cut her hair she started to cry.
It reminded me of a memory I have from when I was little. My brother and I had bunk beds growing up. Sometimes they were stacked, and sometimes they were just side by side. They were identical dark wood beds. Every time we moved, I KNEW that the beds had gotten mixed up, and it drove me crazy. I didn't want to sleep in my brother's bed, gross! One day I came up with what I thought was a brilliant solution, and I carved my name into my bed so it would never get mixed up again. When I went to show my mom I thought she would be so excited that I had solved the problem of the identical beds. Instead of being proud though, I obviously got in trouble. I had carved my name into wood after all. I remember how crushed I was at the revelation that I had done something wrong rather than something right.
So I calmly explained to Kate that we don't cut our own hair, even mommy doesn't cut her own hair. I held her as she sobbed, and I think she's learned her lesson.
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