THE haircut.

So this news is a month old… on the other hand, see how I ‘waited’ to post about Koala’s haircut until after Lag Ba’Omer?

The haircut went really well. I was a little reserved about it because I know my child, and he’s the type that if he doesn’t know you, doesn’t want you touching him, and doesn’t want to be anywhere near your scissors, well, it’s best we all just get out of the way.

But he had been talking about this haircut for probably a year. He knew what it was, and he knew he wanted one. “Like Abba,” he’d say. “And like Bebe.”

(“But not like Ima. Ima no have haircut.”)

We decided to have a little party with friends around getting his first kipa and tzitzit, and Abba snipped the first bit of hair symbolically. Then we went home and the haircut happened.

It helped that the hairdresser is an absolute sweetheart and excellent with kids. Koala sat great and loved every second of it. And when we showed it to him at the end, we could all feel the rite of passing, all around us in the room.

The Last Bath.

Enjoying the last hair toss.

The middle of the haircut.

The new look.

 

Big boy bash, minus hair-band.

Upsherin. Chalaka. Laziness.

Whatever you call the tradition of letting a Jewish boy’s hair grow till he’s three years old, well, we did it. I’m not sure why, to be honest, but here we are one month shy of Koala’s third birthday. Because it falls out at a time when (traditionally) we don’t cut hair, we’re pushing the big snip forward before Pesach starts. Probably shoulda just waited till Lag B’Omer and done it right, but I can’t take the “When are you cutting it?” questions anymore.

We’re also not really doing it ‘right’ considering it’s meant to be a ceremony to give a boy payot and send him off to Cheder to start learning Torah. Ok, the truth is, he’s definitely learning Torah (ask him what the ten plagues are). And technically, he’ll have payot when my hairdresser finishes with him tomorrow, after his lil local party.

The Aleph-Bet cookies are all baked, the honey is packed up, bring on the scissors!

The Russian haircut problem.

Question: Why is it that whenever an Israeli cuts my hair I end up with a Russian haircut?

Note, I don’t mean the crazy short, hot-red kind. I mean the long layer in the back, thick shorter layer in the front.

Also note, it seems to be a universal phenomenon, no matter if the hair cutter is a 30-something hot guy or a middle-aged fraicha mother.

Just curious.