I am mourning the loss of my child’s hair today.  My eyebrows are furrowed and I have a poochy bottom lip.  Last month, Carter had a head full of the best baby hair ever.  It curled like mad right after his bath . . . and then when the curl fell out, it stuck up all over like a punk rocker and made a little fauxhawk.  It was my favorite part about him.  

Early April: 

At the beginning of last week, I noticed that his hair was coming out.  A lot.  It hasn’t stopped.  I can take a bit of his hair, barely even pull at all, and a big clump of it ends up in my fingers.  It makes me want to cry.  No more curly bath time hair.  No more punk rocker hair.  No more adorable stickingupallovertheplace hair. 

Just a few loners left behind on the top of his head.  Sure, they stick up. . . but it’s not quite the same.  And I’m pretty sure by this time next week, he will be completely bald.  I really am sad.  For real.  But I hope it grows back and it’s blonde  . . . and more curly than ever.  Just like his daddy’s.  I know the quality of this next picture isn’t great at all. . . it’s actually a picture I took of a photocopy of a poloroid.  It’s amazing that you can see anything at all.  But you can see the wild, curly blonde towheaded hair of my husband when he was seventeen months old.  I’m okay with Carter going completely bald right now, if his hair is going to turn into the adorable mess of my husband’s head below.  

And I’m still head over heels for this gadget my mom got us as a gift for the birth of Carter.  How amazing technology is.  With this little tiny screen, I can peek in on my kids at any given time.  No more oh my goodness, he’s been sleeping for two and a half hours and what if his blanket is covering his face and he can’t breathe, or someone came and stole him away when I wasn’t watching or fill in the blank with some other crazy hysterical mother statement of panic. 

Just press the button, and a magical little scene of a peaceful, serene little sleeping baby pops up into my view.  Ahhh.  Perfect.  Sigh of relief.  How did I ever live without this the first time around?  

The even better part is that you can buy up to four cameras.  So we have a second camera that peeks into Brayden’s room.  Now I can see all those things that he does for the hour that he sometimes is awake before falling asleep at night.  Believe me. . . he is quite entertaining.  

He sings, he looks at books.  He jumps up and down on his bed and pretends to shoot soccer balls at a goal.  He does barrel rolls.  

I love him to pieces, that little thankfully still two for a couple more weeks guy of mine.