On this my road to greatness, I make efforts to acquire new skills with which to shock and impress the world, and aid in our family's financial stability. This week, I decided to try and overcome my fears about cutting my family's hair. I have tried to add this to my repertoire of amazing skills a few times in the 7 1/2 years that Shelby and I have been married. Most attempts have ended in tears AND trips to the salon for "touch-ups" aka "overhauls." I use the word "fears" purposefully. They are, at the roots, fears of failure and causing my children irreparable social damage. I had similar fears about using yeast(minus the social damage thing), but as I mentioned in an earlier post, I overcame that particular fear of failure; so I decided to give this one another go.
My mom cut our hair all growing up. I actually remember vividly the only two times I ever went to a salon for a hair cut. One was in 4th grade when we decided to go with a chin-length style, and one in 9th grade, which had the unanticipated effect of making me look like Susan Lucci in a soft-focus lens, only with a slightly lighter color. The point is that my mom has had some experience and was generously willing to tolerate me as a student...again. "Didn't we already do this?" she said.
She taught me about the different size cover thingies for the clipper thingies (sound confident, don't I?) and let me do it mostly by myself--which if you know my mom, you can understand what a triumph this was for her as well. Admit it, Mom!! :) She taught me about the direction of hair growth and how to cut it without making it look like rows on the head. Did I mention this was Shelby's head? What a trooper.
They both expressed complete confidence in me, against their better judgment, I'm sure. Regardless, I needed it and I was grateful. She taught me how to go around the ears and how not to cry, throw the scissors and clippers and give up. She taught me how to take deep, calming breaths despite my fears and strong urges to quit. In the end, I think it actually turned out pretty good. I dare say I'm willing to try it on my school-aged son (poor thing); confident enough
to send him to the wolves with a new mom-given haircut, and trust that they won't eat him alive.
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