But really my heart is kinda broken. I didn’t want to cut Willow’s hair, but she hardly ever lets anyone brush it and she always pulls her pigtails out. It was forever in her eyes and scruffy. Her baby curls are in my purse, wrapped up in a kleenex. I haven’t taken them out yet, because I know I’ll cry. I was thrilled to see her out of diapers and not even really totally sad when I weaned her. But, oh. good. Lord. her first haircut has undone me. I’m so sad. I guess it’s because every time I look at her it literally hits me in the face that she’s not a baby anymore. Before I know it, she’ll be shrieking at me in the aisles of Tarjay, like Sophie was just moments ago, that I’m the biggest stupid idiot mother she has ever had the misfortune of knowing, and that I’m making her so mad that she wants to punch me in the stomach.
Someday Sophie will learn that is NOT the way to get me to buy a) toys, or, b) candy. Someday. And someday I’ll learn that it’s worth three or four trips to Tarjay to exchange shoes BY MYSELF, to save myself from shopping there with the Young & Demanding.