My secret career

I remember various hideous hairstyles growing up (if you can even call those bowl-shaped wonders a style). I remember my mom trimming our bangs by putting a piece of tape across the bottom and then cutting with her big silver sewing scissors, the problem with that being that she didn't tape the bangs to our foreheads when she cut; as a result, I think my mom might be responsible for the original angled bangs!

I remember one haircut, however, (the first of several) that first got me interested in being a hairdresser someday--the wretched 'granny cut'. The I-look-like-I'm-89 cut, where all you're missing is the purpley-gray hair dye and a set on rollers to complete the look, which is fine if you are, in fact, 89. I was 14, and absolutely mortified. I remember running all the way home and closing myself up in the powder room (what we called the downstairs bathroom, the one for my dad and company) with a pair of scissors, a comb and a towel, trying to figure out what needed to be done to make this dreadful haircut look better.

That began my secret haircutting career. It should have come as no surprise to anyone that I should want to do this, at least no one in my family, as I cut the hair of every doll in the house, whether or not it was mine. I used to have a doll with red hair that you could make short or long by pressing a button in her stomach and pulling on her ponytail; poor thing, wound up with a short layered cut. We had a beautiful barbie styling head, with the most thick, beautiful, soft blonde hair; we called her 'Nicki' because she reminded us of the character Nicki from the Young and the Restless. I didn't just cut her hair, I layered it to death, gave her bangs, the whole ball of wax! My sisters were furious!

When I started Bible College, I would cut the guys' hair down in the laundry room, two dollars a head, and for girls', five dollars for a trim. Nothing fancy, just the basics... except for my own hair. I have tried just about every medium to short hairstyle on my own head. When I finished my 3 years at Bible college, I planned to pursue being a beautician (the new fancy title), but I had already racked up my student loans, and couldn't afford to take on another, so it was never more than a nice thought/aspiration. (insert sigh here)

So here I am, 40 years old now, still cutting my own hair (today I tried my hand at a shag), and my poor children, if they aren't fast enough to get away. My oldest son wants to grow his hair out a bit, which is just killing me because his hair is so thick that it tends to grow up before it falls down, and it's looking much too big and round for his little face. But, he's 10, almost 11, and I guess I have to give him some room to express himself. It could be worse; he could be asking for piercings of some sort. My daughter wants her hair to grow out, too, and this is also a struggle for me because there are so many pretty hairstyles for girls these days and I want to try all of them out on her! Plus, she has a little face, too.

For now, I am content enough to hack at my own hair, and trim away at the other two boys' hair. But someday, maybe I will get around to pursuing my secret career for real! Maybe when my littlest starts school in the Fall and I'm all on my lonesome... we'll see!