School pictures are the physical and awkward proof that growing is tough business and that sometimes when you were a kid, you had a dried booger on your nose or an uncomfortable smirk on your adorable face. Throw in the teacher trying to do good by smoothing your hair out like an 80's surf movie star and you have school picture perfection.
So I am going to cherish this one in honor of the completely ridiculous zoned out faces he likes to give me but that I rarely capture. And I will cherish it for one other reason, too.
I knew it would happen eventually. That someday we'd have to cut his hair.
Sooooo, I needed to grow ovaries big enough to cut his hair myself.
In order to do that, I needed to say goodbye to my little baby. Oh boy. That took some time. My first. My heart.
It took two days to do it. I was terrified that I'd ruin his hair. But he let me cut it. A few minutes at a time. Snip by snip. Through my tears, he giggled at me. "Mama! A Schizzors are cuttin mah hair!" and then he'd run away. And after six or seven sessions, it was done.
Underneath all of that flowing hair was this big boy. I haven't stopped staring at him yet. And I've cried a bucket of tears over the whole thing like a mama will do. He's been tossing his head from side to side to feel the difference in weight. I've been running my fingers through it. He's beginning to get over the extra snuggles on the couch that I have demanded from him so that I can bury my face in his hair. Maybe he'll let me get a few in today. Maybe not.
Suddenly, all this growing up that I knew would happen is actually happening. And suddenly I can see the big kid he is growing into.
And I'm gonna be the mom that cries about that and loves it all at the same time.