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Completing a childhood rite of passage: cutting your own hair.

Claire has long had a penchant for doing her own hair. So, I suppose it shouldn’t have been a surprise when, a few days ago, she got a wad of gum stuck in her hair, got the scissors, sheared off the problem patch and threw it away, then returned the scissors to their appropriate spot. Independence is Claire’s motto.

Her first “real” haircut.

At first I was shocked, then a bit upset, then found it rather amusing. After some convincing, she admitted what she’d done and agreed to have her hair trimmed up, but only if, in her words, she “didn’t get a boy haircut.”

Rockin’ the new ‘do.

Thankfully a friend who cuts my hair was available the next day to creatively style her hair into a chic little side bob that some people actually try to accomplish. Claire’s going to be really hip for the next few months.

As if she were ever anything else.

Thank you Jessica!

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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