I brought K in for a haircut today and asked if someone was available to cut Baby C’s.
She sat great for it, eventhough I’ve been running her around all morning on errands and even woke her mid-nap to take K in for his haircut. In general, she loves having her hair combed and put up in bands or barrettes. Of course she loves pulling them out, too. She has a headful of curls no one can seem to keep from touching.
Dumby mom forgot to save one. I still have both her brothers’ first curls. But she loved having it cut. She sat very still, loved being fussed over and with. When she was done, but the other stylist was still working on K, she explored the salon only as a true girly girl can. Who knew? She loved the accessories shelves of jewelry, the little Santa with the bell hanging from his hat who was just about her height, and apparently the spa department. I couldn’t keep her out of there. I’m in trouble when she’s a teen aren’t I?