My younger brother, Brian and I took JD for a haircut on Saturday at The Point After in Woodland Park, NJ. My dad and brothers have been going there for years and are good friends with the owners. My friend Katie, who is JD’s godmother and a stylist, usually cuts his hair at our condo (we live in the same building), but she was super-busy, so I made an appointment and dragged my brother along for support. Last time I took JD to this barber shop, he had a meltdown and we left mid-cut—and Katie finished later on that day. Aside from teaching JD that life doesn’t always go as planned (Katie couldn’t trim him) and how to deal with it—and it’s important to deal with it—I also wanted him to have a “guy’s guys experience” with my brother and boys at the barber shop. As a single mom, I am very proactive about raising a well-rounded boy and that means, well, making sure he isn’t always doing girly-girl stuff (getting a special-treatment haircut at our condo while Katie and I have a cocktail.) Next up: The haircut…
When JD woke up bright and early on Saturday morning, I told him in a really excited voice that we were going to get his hair cut where Poppy, Uncle Carlo and Uncle Bri go. Yay! Huge smile.
“But, I want Aunt Katie to cut my hair,” he said.
“Bud, Aunt Katie is working all day and your hair is really long, so we’re going to the barber shop with Uncle Bri. Afterwards we’ll go to the diner for lunch and then we’ll take Max (Uncle Bri’s dog) to the park, OK? Sounds like a plan?” I said/asked.
He thought for a minute. I prepared for a negotiation. Always.
“Is Uncle Bri getting his hair cut off too?” he asked.
“Yes! And he is so excited to get his hair cut off (ha)! It’s long just like yours. Oh and guess what? You get to wear a cool smock like when we do art,” I said.
“When we paint!” he said
“Yes! Exactly,” I cheered.
“Sounds like a plan!” JD said and gave me a “thumbs up.” (My child is too cute!)
Uncle Bri carried JD in and went right over to Marty’s station. I, on the hand, got him a lolly pop from the front desk. When I walked over JD was sitting in the chair, with a big smock on and Marty was spraying his hair down. I gave JD the pop. Marty started to trim. So far, so good.
But then some hair got on the pop. Gulp.
“Oh no, there’s so many hairs on my lolly pop, Mommy!” he said, alarmed.
I got him another one. I got three more.
Mission complete. No tears. Off to lunch and the park.
If your kiddo is freaked about getting his hair cut, do what I did. Make it sound cool. Relate it to something familiar (the cape is like an art smock and Uncle Bri is getting a haircut just like you) And bring in a lolly pop.
Are your pre-schoolers cool with getting their hair cut? Any screamers?