It can be easy to forget there is sometimes still a little one hiding inside our gangly, lanky and deep-voiced teens. I know last Thursday, I saw a glimpse of Mr16’s inner child and I must admit his vulnerability caught me quite unawares.
Of my 2 teen lads, I would say Mr16 is the one who I feel ‘rolls with the punches’, quickly dusting himself off to bounce back and keep going. I think he’s reasonably resilient for his age and stage and if something is upsetting him, it’s very possible you’d never know. But last Thursday something DID happen to upset him … and boy did I know about it!!
He had a haircut.
Not just any haircut.
But THE WORST HAIRCUT EVER!!!!! Well … actually it was just a fairly traditional short, back and sides, but I digress.
Oh, ok, so I’m continuing to digress but I thought it looked awesome!! …. and reckon it still does. He was convinced though, that as Mum, I was obliged to say this, and he wouldn’t have a bar of my compliment.
It’d been a while since I’d seen him so upset, as normally he appears not to give a shit about how his hair looks and I’d happily label him low maintenance. But, no, not last Thursday.
Last Thursday was definitely a high maintenance day.
I shan’t tell you the words he had to say about the hairdresser (totally not her fault, as she did a pretty good job!) but the disappointment on his face took me back to the fragile self-esteem of my own teen years and it hurt. For him.
The half hour car ride home was almost silent – broken only by his occasional outburst describing the hairdresser quite unkindly, and a mutterance of whether or not to shave his hair off entirely.
Poor kid. It really did look good … but he truly did NOT want to believe it.
By the time we arrived home, he had decided on his plan of action – to spend a fortnight in his room … wearing a beanie. We walked through the door, he grabbed a beanie and then took himself to his bed to commence his isolation. My sad man-child.
And that is where he stayed for a good few hours. I waited. Then waited … then I offered to shave his head for him. A suggestion which did not go down so well. Despite my poor attempt to help I was reminded that when your kid’s hurting – for whatever reason at all – it sucks being a Mum without a magic wand.
A few hours later … literally … he resurfaced … jumped in the shower and afterwards spent 15 minutes fiddling with his new do. It still looked great … but although he was yet to agree, finally he declared he could live with it. He was calm, albeit a tad sheepish, after reflecting on what was quite the over-reaction. And I was so very proud of him for the self-regulation he’d shown.
I’m quietly confident he could put this process into play should he ever be faced with a real dilemma …. heaven forbid …. and let’s not practice again on a haircut.
First world crisis averted.
PS. I’m glad he didn’t remember the home haircut I gave him when he was aged about 3. Now that was a bad haircut!!
Have you got a haircut tale to share?