Courtney's first hair cut. Warning: sad story.

I've procrastinated this blog post for a long time now, because this is was a painful experience to go through, and the stabs of heartache and anger and exasperation come back each time I relive the ordeal.
Courtney and Brianna decided to play barbershop.
The results were horrific.
Fortunately, it happened at 6pm, so I could send them straight to bed and deal with my emotions on my own. Fortunately for THEM, that is. They didn't have to suffer from the furious outburst I was on the verge of lashing out at them with. By the next morning, I was cooled off and prepared with a more appropriate consequence.

I'll never understand what was going on in Brianna's head.  She's 6 years old. That sounds so young, yet to do something like THIS... I'm almost certain she is old enough to know better. She had to have realized she was doing something very very wrong. But she was overly tired from a full day of activity, and I was in the other room getting work done, so she could have been feeling ignored.  So yes - I feel some mama guilt here. It was one of those nights I was ready to hit SEND on that email draft quitting my job. Cuz I don't NEED to work. I don't need to have a part time job - not financially, and not for personal fulfillment. I'd be cool with my world without the UtahRunning.com Marketing Director title in it. And I resent the occasional times when I have to get stuff done while my kids are awake and I'd rather be with them. I need to be with them. I need to be present to prevent crap like this from happening!
So. Anyways.  I'm a terrible story teller, aren't I?  I keep jumping around out of chronological order. But it's all blur in my head anyway since it's been so long. I remember staying up late that night, unable to sleep. I was crying. I couldn't look at Courtney without bursting into tears. I had to have Brian put her to bed, because I didn't want her to think she looked ugly.  Because while she's always beautiful to me.... it was about the ugliest hair possible. Whereas before, she had such pretty wavy beach-hair. So innocent and untouched and natural. But maintaining Courtney's self-esteem was definitely a priority.

The next morning at the hairdressers, I had to convince her that now she had a "pixie cut - like the fairies! Fairy hair! So lucky!!"  When in reality, I strongly dislike pixie cuts. 98% of pre-graying women look better with long hair than short, IMO.
So who paid for this emergency trip to the hairdresser? Brianna. She got to empty her piggy bank and hand it over. That wasn't enough to cover it, so she got to do chores. Lots of them.
Part 2 of her consequence:  she has to SERVE her sister, to pay for the meanness and harm done. Her service:  making her sister's bed. Every day. Every SINGLE DAY - until the hair grows back! That's right - until Courtney's hair is back to it's previous length. Some have questioned my ability to enforce this for such a time period. Well, it's been over a month, and we haven't missed a day. Brianna knows that if I have to REMIND her, then she also gets to make Bennett's bed. So she's pretty good about doing it everyday, first thing.

I understand there are worse things in the world that can happen to a 3 yr old. Far worse. I read the news enough to hear of the various tragedies that occur with children.
But this was pretty darn devastating to me. It's been of a small condolence to hear the stories of empathy coming in from all sides - everyone seems to have had a hair cutting catastrophe in their family at some point. What's with kids and scissors?! Sheesh. Those tools of disaster are now hidden away in our home.
I hope this the LAST horror hair story for our family. Ever. It was no fun at all.