I finally gave in

Bumper finally had her hair professionally cut this weekend, by a real hair stylist, in a real salon, in a real race car (not a real race car per se, but a race car nonetheless).

And she has a certificate, complete with first cut curl to prove it.

Actually, I kinda miss her before look, that look right there.

When I was in labour with Bump, during the pushing "fun times!" phase, the nurses, SB, and anyone else who had the chance to glance at my whoo-ha would say "that baby has some head of hair!".

Originally when organizing my birth plan and talking with the nurses, I had said no to having a mirror. To be completely honest (instead of the bundle of lies I usually feed you), my concern with having a mirror on my whoo-ha-ha was all ego talk. I was worried that I would become obsessed with how things looked down there instead of what was going on and staying in tune with my contractions.

Yet with each declaration about the hair, my decision to not sneak a peek crumbled to the temptation of seeing this burgeoning mane with my own eyes. The attending nurse offered to have someone get one and I eventually said yes.

A distraction was becoming more attractive as the pushing phase progressed, or should I say lack of progression.

I had been pushing for a long time - a really long time and there was very little baby-birthin' advancement going on. By the three and half hour mark, I knew we should be a lot closer. Bump hadn't moved very far in a really long time and all signs were pointing to stuck.

So every single time a person would talk about that hair, I wanted to see the baby instead of worrying about the time. No one else seemed concerned about how things were going and negative, worrisome thoughts had no place in this particular moment and soon to be memory (too late!).

I thought a lot about that hair, and the head that was attached to our baby instead of worrying about how long things were taking.

Turns out I was correct in my time concerns.

The mirror distraction never arrived but my doctor did. After a quick check of my status, doc informed us that a non-surgical manual method would be tried only once before beginning prep for a surgical one. Pushing had been going on too long without progression and although no one appeared in distress - yet - a section looked like the next step.

Thankfully the manual method worked (trust me kid, it hurt me just as much as it hurt you - maybe more) and Bump made her début.

She came out complete with the cutest little mullet you've ever seen.

What a good Canadian, eh? Hockey haircut from the get go.

Since she was born, her bangs have been cut twice by me and the rest has never been touched.

I love that hair, each curl that forms in the humid summer air, each strand that falls in her eyes.

But lately it looked messy regardless of brushing and styling. My latest attempt to trim her bangs resulted in a Ronnie meets New Wave/1980s look she couldn't really carry off ["oh mom", she would say if she could, "that's so twentieth century"].

So I gave in and took her for her first cut. Concerns about melt-downs, crying, and clinging - like our passport photo experience - were never realized and Bumper took her trim in stride.

No more mullet. The fringe is gone.

She has a hairstyle. It makes her look... well she looks tamer. Actually that's not it. She looks like a little girl.

I think we just closed another chapter in babyhood.

what? you've never seen a baby toddler drive before?

I can't believe it - there is not one photo of her smiling from this weekend without her wearing a hat. All the smiling photos from a wonderful birthday party we attended this weekend had Bumper wearing her hat. It figures this would be the first time she wears her hat for a prolonged period without the aid of double-sided tape (I kid!).