As you have probably figured out by now, we are a hairy bunch. My little sister Laura had to have bangs cut within hours of coming out of the womb and at 2 months (3 months? I can never remember), she looked like this:
My sister Monica and I can’t leave the house without a pound of gel in our unwieldy curls (or a headscarf) and my mom’s hair defies gravitational theory each morning (it is “just a theory” after all, silly scientists). Seth’s baby and toddler pictures don’t offer much hope from the Weintraub side to counter our wild hair gene:
Jax’s signature look is the hair he’s inherited from us all, but I’m starting to worry it’s affecting his psyche. Case in point: two nights ago he was rubbing his eyes/side burns, as he always does when he’s tired, and his finger got caught in a tangle. He couldn’t figure out that it was his finger doing the pulling, so he kept pulling harder and cried and cried as we grabbed his arm and untangled the finger. His bangs are getting so long I’m wondering if his 33-week-old vision isn’t what it should be, and that he doesn’t complain because he doesn’t know how else to live.
We aren’t die-hard about the wait-till-he’s-one thing, but at the same time feel like an 8-month-old might look funny with a “big boy” haircut. Option 1 is to just cut the bangs and tell everyone his mullet is ironic, like the ones you see loafing about in Williamsburg. Option 2 is to give him a proper haircut, all the way around, and risk the Elvis-wig look. Option 3 is to do nothing and buy a dozen “I am a boy” shirts for the kid.
What do you think?