A Day with Caleb

I had the privilege of hanging out with just Caleb today.  We started out with speech therapy this morning at 8:30am, and then we headed to the salon to get our haircuts.

**Cue the record scratch**

Yes, I took my two year old to my hair stylist for a hair cut.  However, I have two very good reasons for this.  #1 - I can't cut his hair.  He has totally different hair then Seth, fine and soft, and it needs to be cut with scissors and not clippers.  #2 - I still have credit with my stylist because we photographed her wedding last year.  We bartered part of the wedding fee.

So Caleb watched as I got my hair cut.  We were "warming" him up to the idea. (ha ha)  He didn't like when she put my head in the sink to wash my hair, and he for sure did not like the blow dryer.

It is now Caleb's turn.  I keep the cape on, and I pulled him up on my lap.  She starts with the scissors and he turns into crazy, thrashing, kicking, squawking child.  I was trying to bear hug him with my arms and hold his head still at the same time.  Not so easy, let me tell you.  

In the process of this 10 minute ordeal, he pulled the cape off of me, which then meant I got completely covered in his hair.  He kicked Cheryl in the stomach at least 5 times, to which she responded each time, "Oh..its ok.  OHH...it's ok."  Really?  It is?  He was crying so hard he was inhaling hair into his mouth and then choking on it.  

But honestly, even though I felt so sorry for Caleb because he is two and doesn't understand why we are restraining him and going after him with scissors and letting little itchy hairs fall all over him, the whole experience was really not that bad because of Cheryl.  She just kept truckin' along, snip snip snipping away.  The fact that there was some serious weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth going on did not seem to phase her a bit.  She never acted frustrated or irritated or exasperated.  Bottom line...Cheryl rocks.

Here is Caleb's before shot:

(I took my little point and shoot camera to the salon thinking I might get some 

shots of his moppy "before" do.

Wasn't happening.  Period.)

And here is my handsome little man After:

We had to run by the grocery store after the attack of the haircut, and I just couldn't pass these up.

I know, I know. We should be phasing out of the paci's. I promise these will be my last paci purchase. Pinky Promise.
But how cute is that? (They came in a two pack)

And then, we recovered from the exhausting haircut experience by playing with trains.

I love this next shot.  Poor, smiling, unsuspecting Percy is about to be man handled by a chubby little (and probably sticky) two year old hand.  But he never stops smiling!  No matter how many times he runs off the track or crashes into another engine or is thrown across the room. Perpetually Perky Percy.