I Just Killed My Future Jonas Brother

Let me start by telling you how grateful I am for all your sweet supportive comments on my less than perky post yesterday. I cannot tell you the amazing feeling it is to realize that you really are not alone. So many of you have the same story. Thank you for being my friends.

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Now. My dilemma for the day.

To pick a battle or to not pick a battle.

Keaton, my 3rd grader, has been hiding behind mounds of hair for the past few months. He thinks it's cool. Let me tell ya....what he had going was far from cool. He thought that since he had avoided the barber for the past half-year that he had pulled off the long, trendy, shaggy style of every male (it seems like) between the ages of 8 and 23. Not even close. His hair is so thick that it just kind of poofed on the top of his head, like a bomb mushroom. That is not cool.

Lucky for him, my schedule has been packed lately and I haven't found time to squeeze in the hour or so it takes us to spend at the barber. So day by day, his mushroom has been, well, mushrooming. Still not cool.

Until today. Today, I found time.

And with it came the most ridiculous display of bargaining, crying, and whining. You would have thought I was asking the kid to give up a kidney, not a couple of inches of hair. Geez.

My only saving grace in getting the monkey off my back was in blaming it all on the dad. Kirk had had just about enough of the long locks on the boys and had been bugging me to take them to the barber for weeks. And he put his foot down that Keaton needed to get his cut...short.

Keaton cried the whole way home. I'm not so sure that they weren't just a big pile of crocodile tears for my benefit, but still. I started second guessing myself. It was just hair, after all. We probably could have compromised. What if I've crushed his spirit and turned him into a rebel?

I've heard all the talk about picking battles (some about hair styles, in fact), but just never thought I'd have to be picking so soon. FYI...parenting stinks.

I finally got out of him what had bothered him so badly about having his hair cut. It wasn't about his friends at school, and it wasn't about all the teenagers that he is always around. Nope. It was that I destroyed his dream of being a Jonas Brother. He is convinced that they are going to ask him to be in their band, and I was informed today that they won't ask him now that he has short hair.

Great. Now I'm not only dashing my kid's dream to pieces, but I have just sabotaged it as well.

Mother of the Year Award, right here folks.