As a stay-at-home mom who spends her days changing diapers, napping whenever possible, and regularly speaking in high-pitched, sing-songy baby talk, I sometimes think I can actually feel individual brain cells shrivel up and die. I’ll take intellectual stimulation wherever I can get it, including from this blog, my virtual time-out chair.
Mar 152011

I sat cross-legged on the floor, staring longingly at the remnants of Squeak’s lovely, luxurious hair grasped in one hand. In the other, I gripped the implement of destruction, those diabolical scissors. Tiny tendrils of her beautiful brunette locks drifted down around me like a hairy snowfall. Tears streamed down my face as I looked into Squeak’s unknowing eyes and contemplated the act of poor parenting I had just committed. In shame I confess this sin and force my hesitant fingers to type the horrific words… I gave my baby a mullet.

How did such a mishap occur? In the hopes of sparing other parents from this guilt and other babies from this travesty of style, I will share with you the story of how my baby went from adorable moppet to unfashionable mullet.

Even before her birth, we knew from our ultrasound technician that Squeak would have a full head of hair. The copious amounts of vernix seen in the grainy black and white photos were the clue. And then she was born and we loved her and we loved her hair. As her hair grew, we adorned it with barrettes, ponies, and headbands. She was a headturner everywhere we went. To my dismay, she quickly learned how to pull out the barrettes, the ponies, and the headbands. Over and over throughout the day, I would be once again attempting to secure her hair out of her face. It was to no avail. Squeak saw the world through a brunette veil.

One day, out of pure frustration and with little thought, I grabbed the scissors and told my husband to grab the baby. He held her firmly in his lap, her wandering hands out of harm’s way. My intentions were good as I made those first few clips. My inspiration was this photo of me at about the same age as Squeak, my delightful bangs perfectly framing my little cherub face:

After the first cuts, I stood back to admire my handiwork. It was crooked and uneven. I clipped a piece on the left that was too long. Then the right was too long. Clip, clip, clip. I believe it was about this point that the scissors took over. I was no longer in control. Clip, clip, clip. When I finally came to my senses and stepped away from the baby, it was too late. The damage had been done. My baby had become all business in the front and party in the back. She had a mullet. Also known as a Tennesse Waterfall, Squirrel Pelt, Canadian Passport, Mudflap, Neckwarmer, Achy-Breaky-Bad-Mistakey.

In retrospect, it is clear where I made mistakes. I cut impulsively and impetuously, during a moment of frustration. I cut while Squeak was alert and squirming and wiggling. I cut without first consulting the experts, otherwise known as my friends on Facebook, who offered fabulous words of wisdom after the fact: hair gel, bubbles and cartoons for distraction, cut while baby is sleeping, Flowbee. Their wisdom came to late for me and for Squeak. Hopefully, there are others out there who can benefit from these wise parents.

One last word of advice: The $10.95 you pay to have someone else cut your child’s hair is worth every penny!

  9 Responses to “Baby Mullet”

  1. I could not stop laughing! For the record, Squeak is just adorable!!!!!

  2. As with all those haircuts we go home and cry about – it will grow back!

  3. I am crying from laughter! I have done this more than once to my poor girl. She knows to tell me NO~

  4. I love your story! Your daughter is SO adorable! It will grow back… it always does. =) I remember the time I tried to cut my oldest son’s hair with store bought clippers. About half way in he decided I was not doing it right and would not let me continue. Half way through, I had to stop. I could NOT wait to get him to the barber. I agree, it is ALWAYS money well spent! =)

  5. Thanks for the comments! I spoke to my mom just this evening after she read the post. She informed me that my cute baby haircut in the old 1970s picture was not cut by her, and that she made a point of never cutting my hair herself. I guess I should follow my mom’s lead on this one! My haircutting days are over and I’m sitting here humming ‘Beauty School Dropout’…

  6. That is hilarious! I actually recently took my toddler daughter to the hair salon for her first cut to get rid of her natural mullet. :) Also, my hair dresser will cut my daughter’s hair for free since it takes about 43 seconds if I bring her in when she is already doing a cut/color for me. Not sure if that is the norm or not, but worth a try.

    You had good intentions though. :)

  7. OMG! I’m laughing so hard I’m crying, and my daughter is looking at me like I’ve lost it! “Achy-Breaky-Bad-Mistakey” put me over the edge!! Thanks for sharing Christi, but she’s too cute to even worry about it.

  8. This was truly hilarious….only because as a stylist myself, I have been through it!!!!WE often say we should charge more for kids cuts….its twice as hard!!!It WILL grow back ;)

  9. My sister was a barber and taught my kids early what to say when anyone else approached them with scissors. “NOOOOOOOOOOOO! YOU ARE NOT MY BARBER!!!”

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