Creative Clips
By
Celeste Palermo, copyright 2001
“Mommy, Mommy…I have something for you,” hollers my toddler.
“Bring it to me,” I call back, not wanting to break away from my current task. A minute later my firstborn pads into my office, beaming ear to ear.
“Here Mom,” she says, gifting me a handful of honey tresses. Locks of blond silk lay on her shoulder and her bangs now extend way past her ear in a choppy line. “I cut my hair,” she states with a clear sense of accomplishment. I stare at the remnants of her blond mane, dumbfounded and horrified. How did I let this happen? It is my fault. Not only did I fail to provide adequate supervision, providing the opportunity, but I bought her the scissors. I provided the tool.
What is the toddler fascination with scissors? Ever since my daughter first set eyes on my shiny kitchen shears, she has tried every tactic known to man to gain access to them. Once, while I was cutting flowers for a delicate crystal vase, the phone rang. As I turned to answer, she grabbed the scissors with the speed and agility of a man after the remote control. Before I could stop her, she “snipped” the top of the vase and it shattered.
While I do not wish to stifle her creative energy, I know I must teach her responsible use. I cannot bear to think she might injure herself with the scissors or fall while trying to sneak away with them. So, I purchase her a pair made for just kids. They are bright blue with rounded ends, small, and relatively dull. (Though evidently, not dull enough.) We talk about how she should only use her scissors with supervision and that she only cut paper.
I now realize the only thing worse than a toddler trying to steal scissors is owning a pair. Yes, the chance for serious injury is lessened, but the opportunity for creative encounters grows exponentially. The silhouette blinds in my living room are now of snowflake design and the tags on a new shirt are removed…along with part of the sleeve. Along with her hair, my creative clipper has chopped up a roll of toilet paper, mortgage documents, a sympathy card, and the arm to my couch (to match the blinds). Even though my husband and I try to supervise, my little one is quick and has an eye for design.
What to do? Well, aside from crying in your coffee, there are a few things to remember. First, realize children are creative souls. It is our responsibility as parents to help them channel their energy in safe, fun ways. (This takes some real creativity of our own.) Second, realize you cannot negotiate with a toddler, nor leave them unattended. My mistake was getting to engrossed in my office duties to adequately watch my daughter; little ones are fast. While watching my little one multitasking is not an option. Third, realize when the loot is in their hand, all bets are off. If your child gets a hold of a permanent marker and is assessing the living room wall for a signature mural, you must be faster (and smarter) than the artist. Beg, borrow, and bribe if need be…it only takes seconds for disaster.
Yet, if disaster strikes, it strikes. We are not perfect and neither are our children. When reacting to daily fiascos and toddler messes, I attempt to have God’s heart, loving unconditionally, just He loves us. I try to keep perspective, calmly suggesting better alternatives for next time, and looking for a take away lesson if any.
In this instance, the take-away is that a bad haircut is not the end of the world. I have shed tears over many a chop, but my little stylist did not even care to glance in the mirror at her new do’. She abandoned her scissors and scurried away, with better things to think about and new horizons to discover. Thanks goodness hair grows back!
