Owen and the case of the straight-haired mommy monster.

This story must begin by explaining that with a single exception, I have never ever gotten a haircut from the same hairdresser more than once in my adult life. The exception is a woman on Newbury St. in Boston who finally gave me the haircut of my dreams. I went to her a total of three or four times before I quit my city job and it was just too difficult to travel to her salon.

So, just this past Saturday I resumed my suburban hunt for a decent haircut. I'm really not all that picky, it's just that I have fairly curly hair, I normally wear it curly, and most people have no idea how to handle that. Oh, and I'm pretty cheap and I don't like to plan ahead, so I'm hoping to walk into an average salon and get a good haircut from the first person available (I suppose that's not quite fair on my part). Saturday afternoon Reuel graciously agreed to tend to the Tornado while I madly rushed around looking for an opening so that I could look just slightly spruced up before our party that night, and our upcoming Thanksgiving travels. Alas, having been turned down at 2 closer places, I headed to the old standby, the mall. There is a salon there I've been to before, and they are good about accommodating walk-ins, but I always see a different person each time I'm there...and gladly so. This time it was Mike, and it all started well enough, as it always does, with me requesting a simple trim, some long layers, not too boxy at the bottom. And this time, cut the bangs! Long and swoopy, I'm tired of the skyscraper forehead. Of course, of course, says Mike, I know exactly what you mean! No problem. I remind him that my hair shrinks dramatically when dry. And that the best way to handle it is when he's all done to wet it down pretty well, put some goop in, scrunch a bit, then leave it alone! Naturally, and of course, says Mike.

Mike proceeds with a cut that seems normal enough. He is talkative and friendly. Then enough minutes have elapsed that my hair has started to dry a bit, and The Frizz emerges. I see the flash of panic across his face that he tries to hide, very unsuccessfully. His eyes scream, "Oh (bleep)! What do I do with that?!" I'm all too familiar with this reaction. Nevermind that I had already explained that it requires water and gel; he asks me if I would like to have my hair blown dry. I had already told the desk worker and Mike that I definitely didn't want a blow dry (other than my bangs, which I straighten, and the rest stays curly) and I reaffirmed to him just to spend 2 seconds to straighten the bangs, and leave the rest alone. I was going home right away anyway. Sure, says Mike, of course. Mike then proceeds to blow dry very straight the front right quadrant of my head...yes, way more than my bangs, and it is clear to me that he is doing this because it is getting out of his control. He keeps accidentally grabbing just a little bit too much hair with the round brush until he's blow drying a HUGE chunk of my hair. While this is happening I am panicking wondering what he is thinking, but one of my great flaws is that I am so non-confrontational that I am afraid to even bring it up because I don't want to appear that I am questioning his judgment or a picky, unpleasant person in any way. However, when he starts to dismiss me with my mirror image appearing half curly and wet, and half completely straight and dry, I feel awkward enough that I overcome my fears just a wee bit. I ask if it would be too much trouble to just blow dry a tiny bit on the other side just to sort of balance it out a bit, since I wasn't expecting him to do quite that much straightening on the first side. My fears are realized (as they often are in this kind of case) and he looks put-out and walks over to the desk girl and they have a little chit-chat. Then he walks back in a mini-huff and tells me he is just going to blow dry my entire head, and he's going to do it for free. But that next time I need to tell them up front that I want a cut AND a blowdry and not just a cut. ARGGGH! So now it's my fault?! Double Arggggh! I was quiet and tense at this point and questioning if I'd been unclear or confusing or unrealistic. I always feel bad, even when I know it's not my mistake! Oh well, I just gave him a big tip and left with a really lovely head of straight hair. It was kind of fun because we had a babysitter lined up and a party to go to and our friends thought it looked quite glamourous, so it was good in the end.

But since this is Owen's blog, I'm leaving out the best part of this over-dramatized story. When I got home, Owen and Reuel were in the kitchen where they could hear me come in, but not see me. I heard Owen start saying, "Mama! Mama! Mama!" and run around the corner to find me. I swooped him up in a big hug and then he caught sight of me and he face suddenly scrunched up, turned red, and he started screaming! He was completely freaked out! He ran over to Reuel, and clung to him as if there was a monster trying to kidnap him on the other side of the room. Owen is NEVER clingy to Reuel like that, but for about the next 2 hours, Reuel got to experience what it's like to be a mommy while Owen completely shunned me. We tried all sorts of things to get him to warm up again, but he did not trust me one bit! I was mama's evil doppelganger, and bad news all around. I made his dinner, and we put him in the high chair and I sat a few feet in front of him. He craned his neck and looked sideways the whole time, occasionally stealing a peek at me, but if our eyes would meet, he would quickly turn his head back to the side and get a big pouty lip, pretending he hadn't looked. It was so hilarious and so heartbreaking at the same time! The rejection! Over hair?! I guess I did look pretty different. It was an interesting study in psychology to realize how important the whole visual package is to a child in how they recognize a person. A couple hours later by bathtime, he wasn't quite loving me again, but he wasn't terrified either. By morning we were back to normal ;)

In other news, Owen's picked up a cold, and is having so much trouble sleeping. He was up for an hour in the middle of the night last night because he was coughing so much. He would sit up because he would cough less that way, but then he'd start to drift off to sleep and fall over. Then he'd start coughing again and sit up again, etc. It was cute and sad. Tonight he's so congested he's tossing and turning already every 15 mins. Lovely happenings before our trip on Thursday! Ah well, we thanked God for these and other chances to depend on Him more in our prayers tonight.