We Cut The Hair. Musings on the Ethical Dilemmas of Making Choices for our Kids.

Well we finally did it. After about 2 years of “when are you going to cut his hair” we decided that the time was right. Our little boy was just getting too pretty. And frankly we couldn’t stand the stress in the shower. After all, the whole advantage with boys is no tears with hair-brushing, right?

The only problem was, my son was getting quite, er, attached to it. When we asked if he would like to cut his hair “just like daddy does” Joaquin said no. But why? we asked. “Because it will hurt” he told us. No no no it wont, we explained. And we demonstrated how if you squeeze hair, it doesn’t hurt. Then he told us he liked his hair. On further pressing, he revealed that it was “beautiful”, and he wanted to stay beautiful. Oh dear. This is the reason I am so thankful I have boys, I can’t imagine dealing with girls who ask existential questions about beauty, and who need just enough validation to be confident in life but not so much that they think they are nothing without their beauty. Etc. And here was me thinking I could avoid all that!

Wrong.

So I simply told him he was beautiful with or without hair. Thinking, that will be enough, right?

Wrong again.

It took him several weeks to come around to the idea, we had to emphasise the benefits of short hair (having been in both camps I can vouch) – less pain in the shower, less time wasted on daily management, less agonising head lice treatments (a real threat in Israel although he hasn’t had them in a long time) looking more like a boy, looking more like daddy…and through all of this I found myself wondering if its even OK to essentially manipulate kids in this way. I mean, we decided (or rather, never bothered) to cut his hair, and now we decided it needed a cut. It’s his head, so surely his decision?

In the end we took a very softly softly approach, mentioning it here and there and finally I heard that Chaim-the-Hairdresser was coming to town so I suggested it. Chaim is the Sefardi hairdresser who comes to the house and cut my hair whilst having a chat with his mum on his mobile phone he actually did a great job so I didn’t bother getting cross with him over it, plus he happily held my newborn baby whilst I sorted myself out. ‘So on the way home from gan, I asked if he would like to cut it tonight. “OK mummy” he said, “if you can promise it wont hurt”. I promised him.

I actually felt physically nauseous during the entire thing, and interestingly my son had an expression I had never seen before. Sort of like he was concentrating. I wonder if he felt a bit like Samson. We plan to donate the plait to Zichron Menachem an Israeli charity that uses the hair to make wigs for kids with cancer, or to raise money for the charity. In the meantime, it sits there forlornly on the desk, a beautiful flaxen blond shiny plait. My little boy is growing up. Oy Vey.

So now he clearly is a little boy, and no more double takes in the street (even though as his mummy I think he looks like a 4 year old Brad Pitt) and I have noticed a coming of age. No idea if its related to the hair cut but he seems somehow, older. Or maybe people just treat him as if he is, and he is rising to it. Sort of like a barmitzvah boy. In any case, he runs and jumps happily and doesn’t appear to miss his hair at all. And best of all, I get to ruffle it. Never been able to do that before.

Oh, and its not just his hair that I feel a tinge of guilt about. I also make choices about his TV viewing. Since all the TV he watches is on BBC iPlayer or YouTube, I essentially control it. Anyone who has watched any kids TV recently will recognise there is a good reason for that! One evening, when both children refused to sleep, I was looking for a lullaby, and I came across the old Sooty episode with the lullaby for magic bears (Izzy Wizzy). I heartily recommend this, if your kids cant sleep at night. The song still makes me cry 26 years after I first saw it. Jojo loved it and I now sing it regularly so I decided it was high time I introduce him to more of The Sooty Show. And now he and my 3 year old sit on the couch laughing heartily at each episode, and I of course have the added bonus of getting to re-watch Old Sooty episodes from the 80’s, most of which I know off my heart. Absolutely awesome. That Mathew Corbett is a King. Whatever happened to him? Last week Husband put the show on for the kids and mistakenly put on a recent episode. I didn’t see either of them crack a smile and after 10 minutes we unanimously agreed it wasn’t a patch on the old one. Anyway Husband rectified said mistake and now we only watch the old ones. When my son asks about scenes from the intro, I will freely admit that in most cases I can find the episode easily. (No I didn’t get out much as a kid, before you ask).

Anyway here I am enjoying my son retelling lines and acting out scenes from the show with Husband asking, “goodness, does he get all this from you?” with me all the while thinking my kids share my sense of humour, when all of a sudden it dawns on me that we are laughing for totally different reasons. They are cracking up at the slapstick, the kids getting one over on the adult, and me at the undertones. As a kid I thought I caught all the adult references but perhaps not. Today we found an episode where Mathew decides to move house because things are falling apart. A doornob keeps falling off which is driving him mad. Soo tells him “Don’t worry Mathew, if your nob keeps falling off I’m sure we can find someone to stick it back on”, he replies deadpan “I’m sure we can Soo, I’m sure we can”. Well I have to say I don’t remember laughing at that one in 1988.

Oh, and whilst we are on the subject of watching telly with out kids, I have to recommend the Sesame Street version of Downton Abbey. If you haven’t seen it yet, sit down for a few minutes and watch it on YouTube with your kids. It will really brighten up your day, I promise. And its much cheerier than the real deal at the moment.