First Haircut, 19 months

I have been growing out my hair for what feels like forever, after a botched highlight job back in 2008. While a trim is recommended every 6-8 weeks, I tend not to get around to maintenance but every 6-8 months. The truth is that I'm even less inclined to find time for myself when I'm pregnant or otherwise preoccupied, so I can't even remember the last time I paid Mikel a visit.

And then there's poor little Roscoe. We've never before cut his hair, mostly because he's had so little of it since he was born. Over the last few months it's become pretty unruly--curly when wet, but super fine and unable to hold shape once it dries. I was certain that the weight of almost 20 months of baby hair was dragging his curls down. Add in the static of Winter and it's been quite unfortunate. We realized the extent of it last weekend while browsing in Ikea. Ragamuffin came (lovingly) to mind.

I decided a month ago that a double date haircut was in order, and I've been looking forward to this day ever since. For me: the experience of infrequent pampering in the form of a salon shampoo. For him: the opportunity to unearth the true nature of his auburn locks.

We decided from the start that Roscoe in my lap would offer up our best chance of success. He donned a little animal print apron and sat happily in my ever-disappearing lap until Mikel's comb stroked through a little dried yogurt camped out in Roscoe's bang--that was the beginning of the end. Tears ensued, and his eyes never completely dried out.

This photo sums up Roscoe's first hair cut:

After a few gimmicks, we found that a good 'ol chat about goats and goat poop (never fails!) calmed him down enough to complete about 80% of the cut.

We decided to give Roscoe a break from the stress and so I got my hair cut while he impatiently observed. He asked no less than ten times if I was "done?", and when the blow dryer finally stopped buzzing, the answer was yes and Roscoe did his happy little trot dance saying "OK! OK!".

But we still had 10% finishing touches to add to Roscoe's cut, and the results were achieved with similar unrest.

Mikel snipped tiny bits of hair as he went and never cut off anything substantial, so the "first haircut" envelope in the baby book will remain empty until next time.

Afterward, we stopped next door for a quick dinner and Roscoe picked out a raspberry tart and a yogurt as a special treat.

Back at home, after bath and half-way through bedtime routine, I snapped a few "after" pictures. Since Mikel did a dry cut, it was hard to know what the final results would be.

I'll have to wait for tomorrow to see how it behaves when it's dry, but so far so good!

Growth

This is news only because Roscoe's stats have been comfortably hanging out in the bottom 25th percentile, and during his infant months were in the bottom 2%: Roscoe is in the 58th percentile for weight (27 lbs.) and 40th percentile for height (32.5 in.)! He grew 2.5 inches and gained 2.5 pounds in just three months, which substantially altered the trajectory of his growth curve. I'm 5 feet tall so I can't help him out much, but here's to hoping that he will blend in with the crowd as he continues to grow. I finally had a chance to record his height measurements on his growth chart which was a fun thing to do.

On another note, Andy was out town for most of the week and while we got along just fine, his absence left me and Roscoe pining for his return. There have been very few times since Roscoe was born that Andy has had to travel--this was only the second time that I can recall. For someone who rarely has the opportunity, I was exhausted and empowered by the responsibility to mother Roscoe day and night, and also functionally run the house. I enjoyed the time that I don't typically get to hang out with Roscoe, namely the early morning hours that this week nicely lent themselves to pancake breakfasts, finger painting explorations, and Internet video browsing--the favorites of which turned out to be a chicken laying an egg, and a goat pooping.

I have yet to share our Christmas recap (I really hope to find time soon) but the highlight for Roscoe of five days in Walt Disney World, was a goat in the Animal Kingdom that "ate hay", and "pooped". We haven't heard the end of it yet! He becomes overwhelmed with sudden excitement in the middle of everyday activities and begins belting "Goat!" "Goat!" "Goat!" It's fascinating how his little mind works.

One for the books

As independent and adventurous as Roscoe is, and for all the freedom he has been given to explore, it's a small wonder that Thursday night marked Roscoe's first major trauma.

We can only guess that he tripped on his own two feet--running full speed, no doubt--and made contact with a set of unforgiving free weights on his fall to the ground (no one actually witnessed the event). In less than the two minutes required to hike the stairs to our loft, a purple contusion protruded madly off the front of his brow. Caught in the middle of a work day, and alarmed by the size and severity of the injury as it continued to swell, I quickly signed off for the afternoon.

A nagging concern was a possible bone fracture. In an effort to avoid subjecting him to unnecessary procedures and possibly grueling wait times I opted for his pediatrician's office over the emergency room. They confirmed that neither his eye nor the surrounding muscles were damaged, and agreed that the severity of the swelling was extraordinary--we were ordered directly to the hospital for an x-ray.

Luckily, everything checked out just fine, and all that lingers now is a first shiner.

Roscoe eats with a spoon!