Our daughter's third birthday is coming up next week. I've been trying to figure out what little outfit to put her in and how to fix her hair for the big day. We've been letting her hair grow for the past few months. Not so it's long and pretty, no. We're growing it out because right before Christmas, she found a pair of scissors and went to town. My parents' church asked that our kids be in their Christmas Eve Nativity scene. It turned out to be their only year on record to have a punk rock baby angel. Being in the south, it seems like every sweet girl has a ribbon in her long hair while being raised with the motto, "The bigger the bow, the closer to God." This all took a turn one night as I was cutting our four year old son's hair in the bathroom. Our daughter had such excitement in her eyes as her brother's hair fell to the floor. She pulled on her little curls and said, "My hair Mommy! Do Mine!" Now what I SHOULD have done was said, "Oh yes Baby Girl! Let's cut your hair too!" and pretended to snip away. Instead, trying to get the kids in their PJ's and into bed, I hastily said, "No, no Lauren...we don't want to cut your hair right now," as I put the scissors away. Little did I know that her two year old baby self was watching exactly where I hid the scissors and comb. The next afternoon as I made macaroni and cheese for the kids, I noticed that the three boys were in the kitchen, but Lauren was nowhere to be found. I called for her to come and eat but heard this tiny voice say, "One minute!" Oooooh no. With a pot of boiling water and dancing macaroni, I shot a look at Ethan, our six year old speed demon and said, "Run upstairs and see what your sister is doing, fast!" As I took the pot off the stove, he yelled down, "MOMMY! SHE'S CUTTING HER HAIR!!!" The other two boys and I all but tripped over each other as we bolted up the staircase. When we got to the bathroom and found her, she had the biggest smile on her face with little piles of hair covering the tile floor. She looked up and said, "Look Mommy! I did it! It so Pitty!" - and there she was. Our little 80's punk rocker. I stood there not knowing whether to laugh or cry. She was SO proud of herself. I know it's only hair and it's actually grown out quite a bit by now. She still tells us that it's "pitty." At least one thing's for sure...she'll be the "pittiest" three year old in town.
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