Oliver celebrated his first birthday on June 14, with just a little help from cousins and cupcakes. This marked not only my realization that my littlest guy is growing up before my very eyes, but also that his beach curls have gotten way out of control. Joel and I decided to go ahead and give him a trim, which commenced with scissors, but quickly escalated to buzzing with the clippers (which I swore I would NOT do!) after I stabbed myself in the finger due to the wiggly nature of a one-year-old. We used the longest attachment, but there are probably still grandparents, family, and friends out there who would have my head for getting rid of his CURLS.
Don't worry, when it's humid and/or he eats peanut butter or cantaloupe, the curls (albeit smaller) pop right back out.
Pictures, you ask? I have been rocking the Before photos lately, behold:
And after we finagled his ultra-fine hair through the big bad clippers:
Does anyone else think he looks EXACTLY like his Papa (my dad) now? Pardon the unflattering overhead lighting in this last one:
He's still my cutie pie, but he looks like he's five years old now with his grown-up haircut. Sigh. How the time flies!
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