Baby's first haircut turned out to be a bit of a fluke really.
Her lovely blonde hair, (which has taken a pretty long time to grow) has gone into overdrive recently and she was starting to look like a hippy child thanks to the long, sticky-out bits that won't lie flat, no matter how much brushing or coaxing I do.
I'd made a tentative appointment for her along with a trim for myself, but I wasn't sure whether she was going to go for the whole, sitting in a chair, wearing a pinny while a strange lady plays with the back of her head, type idea.
When the day came around it looked even more unlikely.
We'd just had a weekend away at the grandparents, during which she had really suffered with her teeth and I'd really suffered with lack of sleep.
There was more bad news when we arrived at the salon because the buggy I though was in my car boot, wasn't.
I carried her in and sat her on my lap and she was good enough while my hair was cut.
She didn't seem to notice when we wrapped the coverall around her clothes - could have been something to do with the snack I'd deftly put in her fingers granted, but there she sat, munching away, while the lady snipped away with her scissors.
When she was done I pointed out her new trimmed barnet in the mirror and she gave a huge grin - what a star!

As a footnote, I mentioned the interupted sleep before.
Well that's actually been happening on and off since December. But touch wood, the last few night those terrible teeth seemed to have stopped hurting her and Himself and I have enjoyed a good eight hours straight again.
But the trials aren't over.
Last few nights she's thrown a complete wobbly when I've put her in her cot.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger - as my dear old nan likes to say.