Haircut

Grandmothers on both coasts can rejoice--Fiona finally got her haircut. I don't know how well it comes through in this picture, but she now has honest-to-goodness bangs.

We took her to the salon with Mommy on Saturday afternoon and Fiona sat and watched while Mommy had her hair washed and cut. This wasn't something we could have done even six months ago, but Fiona has learned how to sit still for longer periods, and even when she got bored and got down on the ground to play she was very good about staying right next to Daddy's chair and she didn't try to pull down anything off the shelves or tables at the salon.

When the time came to get her haircut, Fiona insisted she wanted a "Cinderella haircut," so we all made sure to call it that. The only thing she had a hard time with was looking down at the ground when the stylist was trying to cut her hair in the back; Fiona wanted to look at the mirror (I tend to zone out myself and just stare at the mirror when I get a cut, so I understand the impulse).

When it was all over, we praised Fiona for doing so well, which led to an emphatic "stop it! Stop saying good job!" It seems Fiona's developed a keen ear for when she's being patronized, or at least she knows when praise is a little too effusive. So we scaled it back, handed her a lollipop, and headed off into a less hirsute evening.

An evening which, I should hardly need to add, was spent with Fiona freqently pretending to cut our hair. That's the way she processes new events.