My sister is a hairdresser. She gave The Boy his first haircut when he was 11 months old. I didn't think she would be able to do the same for The Lad because we weren't going to be in the same state around his first birthday. But, as the genes worked out, The Lad's hair grew in at a much slower rate and mostly in the back, which meant I could let it grow without blocking his vision. He had the most adorable little rat's nest of curls at the back of his head. I almost hated to cut it, however, it was verging on mullet territory and we were seeing my sister so:
First haircut at 16 months.
The Lad was less than pleased about the process.
Lexi did the deed the day we arrived in Tybee Island. (Great beach for kids, by the way, provided you have a place to stay on the beach or within walking distance. Parking is horrendous, but the beach is flat and wide and the water is shallow.) We saved his curls, but it's only just now occurred to me, I'm not sure where they went. I thought I put them in my bag, but don't remember unpacking them. Hmmmm, this is what happens with the second child.**
The Boy and his cousin, 4-year-old Little Man. They're nine months apart exactly.
The Lad snagging a sand toy.
This is what vacation with four boys looks like. The Oldest, who is 5, is in front. You'll notice The Beastie looks positively thrilled with himself for keeping up with the older boys.
**EDITED TO ADD: I found The Lad's curls! They were in my wallet, wrapped in a tissue, and they're now safely stashed in the baby book. Also, I would like to note that, like The Boy's first haircut, this one bothered me not so much because of the change in looks, but because of the change in the feel of my baby's head. Instead of rubbing impossibly soft baby hair, I was rubbing the rough, sweaty head of a little boy.