Hairy Situation
Somebody in my family, who shall remain nameless, got a bad haircut. More accurately, someone got a perfectly fine haircut he just isn’t fond of. I won’t go into details of his reaction, which honestly got a little ugly, but I’d like to consider my reaction and explore the gravity of navigating these types of situations.
Let’s start by agreeing that parenting is a landmine of contradictions. Life is everything but absolute, yet often the only way children understand a concept is through a black verses white, wrong verses right, good verses bad approach.
I vowed when my boys were young that I would never lie to them—except about Santa Claus and his cronies— so when they ask me tough questions, I do my best to make my explanations honest and age appropriate. When my boys asked me what rape is after hearing about it on the news, why people were so mean to Jackie Robinson or why there were hundreds of small white crosses on the lawn at church, I didn’t shy away or avoid explanation.
If anything I end up overloading them because I worry about not giving them enough information or the full context of a situation. Frequently, I find myself over-explaining exceptions to every rule and reasons why I feel the way I do. I want my boys to have a nuanced understanding of topics, be able to form their own opinions, even if they differ from mine, and be respectful of others’ views. For all of those reasons, I sometimes take my explanations a bit too far and we get lost in the weeds.
There is also the struggle to keep the balance between knowledge, emotions and actions—how we feel and what we believe in conjunction with how we behave. For instance, I know I shouldn’t drink too much, but I’m typing this on my phone while drinking my second beer at the Alexandria Brewing Company. How do I explain making less-than-ideal decisions even when I know better?
So what happened with the hair cut?
Initially, he seemed happy—we left Super Cuts with a smile. That was until we got home and he realized it was WAY shorter than he wanted and his ability to style it was VERY limited, Before I knew it, he was in full-on meltdown mode and I was struggling to bring things into perspective. The problem—everything I said or did was a contradiction and my little guy is smart enough to see through every damn discrepency.
Take Pride in Your Appearance
I want my sons to take pride in their appearance. I know that we judge each other by the way we look. While I value being well-groomed and neatly dressed, I don’t want my boys to put too much emphasis on the superficial trappings of physical appearance. I fix my hair and put on makeup every single day. Yep, even when I had two kids under two, I still slapped on some concealer, mascara and lipstick. Maybe that habit stems from spending most of my 20’s working in the salon industry and trying to keep up with all of my gorgeous co-workers. But if I’m honest, it has more to do with my personal vain streak.
On one hand I’m telling my guy all about how he should look his best at school and I’m also modeling that behavior every day of his life. On the other, I’m telling him it’s no big deal that his hair isn’t like he prefers and that he should just roll with the punches not concerning himself with what others’ think of him. I should also add that I’ve repeatedly told my boys how people judge each other by appearance and that they should take pride in looking neat and groomed. I’ve also told them to not judge other people by what they’re wearing as we don’t know their circumstances.
So which is it? Does appearance matter or not? The behavior I’m modeling certainly demonstrate that it does. We all make assumptions about people because of their appearance, but I’m pretty sure the world would be a better place if we did that a little bit less.
You Own Your Feelings
I’ve repeatedly told my boys that they can tell me anything. I also tell them their feelings are their own and I will always be there to support them. I was a sensitive child. I constantly got my feelings hurt, experienced extreme anxiety (so much so I’d vomit before gym class on the regular) and cried at the drop of the hat. My dad had zero patience for crying which only escalated my melt downs.
When either of my boys show sensitive tendencies, I do my best to be understanding and kind. I share stories of my own experiences to demonstrate my empathy and give them hope that if I got through a similar tough spot, they can too.
The problem with feelings, and what I now understand was my dad’s frustration, is that they’re not necessarily rational. So when I was hyperventilating because I didn’t get a perfect score on my 2nd grade spelling test, his patience ran thin. My patience also ran thin when a perfectly fine haircut caused over-the-top amounts of drama. My insistence that it would grow back within a couple weeks only escalated his frustration and mine in return.
Eventually I lost my cool and yelled at my guy about crying, which is something I swore I’d never do. And while I want to honor his feelings, I don’t want to encourage self-pity and especially about something that is as minor as a haircut that will grow out in 7-10 days. Which brings me to my next point…
Don’t Expect Me to Coddle You
Sometimes in life we have to power through the uncomfortable moments. The fit thrown when it was time to leave for school would have made Mariah Carey take heed. I’m not proud of it, but at one point I told my diva that I think this haircut situation was probably a good lesson for him because he has to get better at being uncomfortable. While I probably would have been better served to keep that thought to myself, I stand by it.
I genuinely relate to what it’s like to lack confidence or be embarrassed, so I want to offer support and understanding and I don’t like to see my boys feeling uncomfortable. But I would prefer them to practice being uncomfortable with something as inconsequential as a haircut. Both my boys are fortunate to have fairly comfortable lives but the times when we grow the most is when we’re outside our comfort zone.
Maybe this one doesn’t have a contradiction…I’m a walk it off, if you want to take your lunch pack it yourself, carry your own shit kind of mother. Jason says I’m not maternal. I say I’m just teaching them to be independent….tomayto, tomahto.
How Did it Turn Out?
In the end, nobody made fun of my guy’s hair. He even gave me a half-baked, staring-at-the-ground apology saying he had a good day at school. I want my boys to be confident in themselves but also open-minded. Life is full of contradictions. It’s a balancing act that I’ve certainly not perfected and I suppose they never will either.
My greatest fear is screwing them up so badly that they’ll need years of therapy to recover. Although, I suppose that’s the consequence of childhood—nobody gets out unscathed.
