Bang it out

As I walked by the hall bath, I noticed my toddler middle child standing on the stepstool, staring into the mirror. Her shoulders slumped. Her face drooped. Her eyes were red, and a tear slid down her chubby cheek.

Immediately I went to hug her and ask what was wrong. She looked pained as she studied her reflection. “I don’t want to be (me). I want to be (big sister) or (little sister).”

My heart broke and my mothering instincts kicked into high gear as I imagined the years of therapy it might take to unravel whatever was causing this meltdown. The sisters seemed to get along and play so well together. Does Middle Child Syndrome set in before preschool? “Why don’t you want to be you? I love you just like you are!”

Her little voice cracked as she revealed the source of her trauma.

“I don’t want bangs.”

What is it about bangs that raises such emotions? I remember considering taking the plunge myself, and was narrowly saved by reading a post from comedian Sarah Silverman: “If you don’t have enough regret in your life, try cutting bangs.” I’ve taken this to heart and let my oversized forehead face the world unencumbered ever since. My daughters have all experimented from time to time, with very mixed results.

In my toddler’s case, her perfectly straight hair was ideal for bangs, unlike her curly-top baby sister. And little did she know that the only reason her older sister no longer had bangs was because, just hours before her photo session at preschool picture day, she had used child craft scissors to whack those suckers off. She wore a crown in the picture, which at least diverted your eyes from her choppy hairline. It was still growing out, indebted to barrettes and headbands to cover the damage while we waited.

Self-service was not to blame in our family’s most memorable bangs tragedy. Just days before my second daughter’s bat mitzvah, as I was finalizing arrangements with the caterer and photographer, I came home one evening to see that my attorney husband had decided to try his hand as a hairstylist. Our 5-year-old was the victim of his misguided attempt at a mid-career switch. He trimmed those bangs down to the nub — just in time for professional family photos. Ruining our baby’s perfect little face was a crime that deserved lifetime punishment. We’ll never give him scissors again, though I suppose the laughter  we’ve enjoyed for years looking at the photos may commute the sentence.

As family bang trimmer in chief, my dozens of successful haircuts were not without the occasional misstep. A few years after her father’s attack on her, I was trimming her bangs when she turned her head suddenly, and an unfortunately large chunk of hair was accidentally removed. I posted the photo next to the bat mitzvah photos, asking my friends which was worse. “At least most of the bangs are the right length!” made me feel a bit better. I was subsequently removed from my post as well.

Over the years my girls have had innumerable hairstyles, including many dives into the pool of bangs, curly hair and all. One retains it as her signature style, while others repeatedly feel regret, and yet every so often, just can’t resist the temptation to try again. Last month, the OG Little Sister (now the middle child herself), brain fried from studying for finals, carried on the family tradition. She took scissors to her own scalp and lived to regret it.  At 2 a.m., she spied the shears on her desk and became absolutely certain that this was absolutely necessary. Under the fluorescent lights of her dorm bathroom, she snipped away with utter confidence. I’m sure the length was perfect when wet, but after curling up when dry, they turned into a tiny fringe that would make Betty Boop proud. Distraught, she drew on her middle-of-the-night mistake to soothe herself by making art. In the form of a video and a cartoon, she turned personal tragedy into future entertainment. If only every rash decision could be so easily repaired or laughed away later. For a blessing like that, I’d sacrifice my own hairline.

Lori Fein of Teaneck is a mother of five and a litigator at Eckert Seamans. She is the host of the podcast Mommash: The Oy & Joy of Family, and the co-host of the Viktor Frankl Podcast. She speaks publicly about raising happy, independent kids and cultivating close families. Reach her at lorifein365@gmail.com.