I started to freak out, thinking he has Trichotillomania, where people feel compelled to pull all their hair out. It's a type of compulsive disorder. It can present as early as one. His pediatrician said to only let them know if he reacts like he's in pain or if he is fussy all day. He seems fine otherwise. So, with a heavy heart... we decided to get his hair cut, ugh.
We figured, if his hair was short enough, there wouldn't be anything to pull out. If you know me, you know how attached I was to these curls.
I think Owey was pretty attached to them as well. He didn't like the poor girl cutting his hair. He did pretty well though, didn't squirm too much. I sobbed through the whole thing. I sobbed when I sat in the drivers seat of our car to leave, and I turned around to look at him, and he's rubbing his hands all over his head as if to say, "Where did my hair go??" Clint had to drive. Owen and I were crying too hard.
The only remedy was vanilla soft serve.
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