Hair Raising Adventures with Our Tiny Lion

Joannis at 10 days old

When Joannis was born, he surprised everyone with a full head of thick, dark hair that seemed almost impossible for a newborn to have—like a tiny, adorable lion ready to face the world. But what made his entrance even more memorable was his loud bawling that echoed through the hospital halls, reminiscent of a little calf’s cry, demanding attention with surprising strength and volume. My mom, determined to tame Joannis's wild mane, decided to give him his first haircut at just ten days old. While he slept peacefully in my arms, Mom carefully trimmed his luscious hair to keep him from wrapping his long fingers in it and pulling. That early haircut became a cherished family story, symbolizing Joannis's fierce yet gentle personality from day one, forever capturing the blend of his spirited arrival and tender beginnings.

From the moment he was born, his long hair defied typical expectations for boys, often causing confusion among friends and strangers alike. For church on Sundays, we would dress him in traditionally boyish outfits—tiny t-shirts adorned with dinosaurs, miniature jerseys, and sturdy little pants. Despite the outfits, many parishioners still assumed he was a baby girl simply because of his long hair. This surprising combination led to numerous amusing moments, including double-takes and polite questions about his name and gender, underscoring how strongly society links hair length to gender identity.

Ericka and I usually found the gender mix-ups amusing and took them in stride. However, one elderly parishioner repeatedly told us each week, "What a lovely baby girl! You know, there’s a daycare downstairs where she can stay during the service."

Our reply remained consistent: "Yes, HE is a beautiful BOY. We love having him with us during worship." After several weeks of the same conversation, I eventually asked her directly, "Is he bothering you during the service? Why do you keep suggesting we send him to the nursery?" She never responded and ceased bringing it up again.

By the time Joannis reached ten months, his hair had become a wild, unruly tangle, with tufts sticking out in all directions, giving him an irresistibly charming yet clearly overgrown appearance. Despite how cute the lengthy hair looked, I decided it was time for a trim. To make the haircut a pleasant and relaxed experience, I positioned his highchair on the front porch, where the soft breeze and natural sunlight created an inviting setting. Surrounded by the calming chatter of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves, he sat with curiosity, intrigued by the clippers and scissors I had prepared. However, doing his haircut in this cozy outdoor space soon proved to be an embarrassing spectacle.

The instant I snipped the first lock of Joannis’s hair, he let out a sharp, piercing scream that echoed through the neighborhood with surprising force. His small body twisted and struggled, trying desperately to get away from the unfamiliar sensation and the strange tool near his head. Ericka promptly intervened, gently but firmly restraining his arms while soothing him with calming words and gentle touches. It was a whirlwind of emotions, with Joannis's fear and confusion clashing against our resolve to complete the haircut.

Before long, curious neighbors began to emerge from their homes, drawn by the unusual commotion. My cheeks flushed bright red as I awkwardly handled the scissors under their watchful eyes, each uneven snip and patchy strand scrutinized. What had started as a simple, private task quickly turned into a public exhibition. Desperate to regain control and preserve some dignity, I hurried to finish the makeshift haircut and retreat indoors to recover my bruised pride. Despite Joannis's wails competing with the surrounding whispers, the ordeal finally came to an end.

After our initial disastrous attempt at a DIY haircut that left us mortified, we chose to take Joannis to Great Clips for his next haircut, hoping that the professionals there would be better equipped to keep him calm. However, this seemingly straightforward decision quickly devolved into a comedic ordeal. Upon entering the salon, Joannis was immediately overwhelmed by the loud buzzing of clippers and the busy hairstylists bustling around, each attending to their clients. When it came to his turn, still shaken from the earlier experience, Joannis cried out loudly and struggled wildly in my arms. The stylist suggested I hold him firmly while trimming his hair, believing this would keep him still. Yet, as the haircut continued, restraining Joannis tested both my patience and strength. Strands of hair clung to the sweat on my face, and my glasses slid down to the tip of my nose. Other patrons watched the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and amusement, while I fought to maintain my composure amid the commotion. Despite the turmoil, the stylist completed the haircut skillfully, leaving Joannis looking better than ever—transforming what started as a disaster into a memorable and amusing experience.

Starting then, Joannis' haircuts shifted from being a difficult ordeal to becoming an opportunity to exercise creative parenting. We found that having his favorite toys with him and offering treats as encouragement calmed his nerves, enabling him to slowly adapt to the process. Each haircut marked a milestone in his growth, showing transformations not just in his appearance but also in his character. His thick hair remained a strong symbol of his unique identity, representing a spirit that defied conventions and embraced individuality.

As Joannis grew older, the stories of his lion-like birth hair and the memorable first haircuts became treasured family tales—reminders that sometimes, the most challenging moments create the most beautiful memories. And no matter how wild or tamed his hair became, it always reflected the fierce, gentle heart of the boy with the lion’s mane.

Joannis at one year old