The return of St. Baldy

St. Patrick's Day means one thing in our household--a bald head! That's right, my dear, philanthropic young son shaved his head for the fourth time in support of kids with cancer (for more info, go to www.stbaldricks.org). I'm so proud of Mark!

This is a big deal because my kid LOVES his hair. He loves it even more since becoming a middle-schooler, which means he spends countless hours in the bathroom brushing his hair, and I spend an equal amount of time yelling at him to clean the hair out of the sink. 

He's tried a few new hairstyles, but his two favorite are what I'll call the Justin Bieber (carefully flipped to one side ad nauseum) or the Dumb and Dumber (all hair brushed forward a la Jim Carrey). He rotates evenly between the two.

So to sacrifice his thick, luscious locks is a big deal. I worried he would bow out at the last moment, but once again, he did not. He came home sporting an almost glowing white head. Everyone who sees him involuntarily runs their hands across his stubbly head--you just can't help it. He looks like a little Army recruit, except way cuter and sweeter.

Besides raising money for cancer research, Mark gets a reward he loves almost as much as his hair: To prevent sunburns, the school lets all the bald kids wear hats to school. This is a dream come true for Mark. He love love loves his baseball hats, so wearing one to school is heaven for him.

The only problem is, he buys the hats when he has hair, and they fit fine. However, they are way too big without hair.

Luckily for Mark, he washed and dried his favorite Dodgers hat earlier this year (he didn't feel lucky at the time). It shrunk in the drier, and he was crushed. 

But now, it's just a tad bit too big on his bald head--I thought it looked fine, but what do I know? I'm just a dumb, fashioned-challenged mom, and I have no idea what is sick anymore (hey, come on, give it up for my correct use of "sick." Although I probably lose cred for having to point out that I'm up--or is it down?--with the current slang terms.)

Mark decided to forgo ALL baseball hats, opting instead for his second favorite hat: a beanie. He's quite proud of this one:

I have to hand it to him, the kid knows how to make a statement. He wore the hat all day yesterday, and everyone who saw him laughed and complimented him on his fancy green Kermit the Frog hat.

That's right, cuz it's sick.

My little bald hero

I usually treat Mark like a little kid simply because...well, he is a little kid. But sometimes, he reminds me by his actions that he's much wiser than I give him credit for.

Last week, Mark participated in his third St. Baldrick's day, to raise money and fight childhood cancer. He voluntarily gave up the thing he treasures most besides his purple skinny jeans--his hair. That's right, he stepped up on stage and let someone shave his head. As in bald. As in...gone.

The before picture. Enjoying a few last precious moments with his hair.

The after picture. He realizes what he really just did--buh-bye hair!

He even had to work to get his head shaved. I signed him up, but didn't know I had to turn in a parent signature. So at first, they denied Mark, and he called me in tears. But we got it worked out, and soon after, he joined the throngs of baldies who couldn't stop rubbing their newly-shorn heads.

I was a few minutes late, and missed seeing Mark get shaved. I was bummed, but then I looked around the schoolyard, where more than 100 other bald people were walking around, and I couldn't help smiling. It was really inspiring to see all these people step up and give so publicly. Not just give money, but give themselves--I mean, really, hair is important to people, and shaving it all off is pretty selfless.

Anyway, for Mark, it was a big deal for a few minutes. He helped raise money, he got to be onstage with his friends, and he'll get to wear his favorite baseball cap to school for the next few weeks.

But for me, it was a much bigger deal. It was a chance to see my son think of others, to act compassionately, and to think beyond himself.

And it's a chance for me to remember what a wonderful, thoughtful kid he is, and how lucky I am that I get to raise him.

A hair-raising adventure

Last week, Mark's school hosted the annual St. Baldrick's event. The premise is pretty touching -- participants agree to raise money for a cure to childhood cancer and to have their heads shaved.

That's right -- shaved. As in no hair. None. Completely bald!

It's very inspiring. This year, there were 160 shavees, including at least one woman and a little baby (his fireman dad also shaved his head). There were other firefighters, a high school baseball team, parents, and more than 100 boys from the school. The honor of the first shaving went to a middle school girl who is currently in treatment for cancer. She shaved her dad's head as everyone cheered.

I love that Mark volunteered for this. That kid loves his hair, and for him to give it up was a sacrifice. I was proud of my little guy.

He even tried to involve me.

"Are you shaving your head this year, Mom?" he asked.

I shook my head and answered, "I give the money, you give the hair." I offered to shave my head next year if he pays the donation; I'm 99% sure he'll refuse.

Eight boys from his Cub Scout den attend the school, and all eight boys shaved their heads. It was hilarious to see them all running around bald-headed and rubbing each others' heads.

Here's Mark's before picture:

Here he is mourning the impending hair loss with his friends Cody and Jonah:



Let the buzzing begin!



The final results -- a good-lookin' bald Mark!

The boys were hilarious afterwards. They couldn't keep their hands off their heads, and went around rubbing each other's stubble like they were Buddha bellies. We all attended a play that night, and they sat in the same row, a chain of boys rubbing each others' heads.

Here's Mark checking out Jonah's new 'do.

They were very supportive of each other, too. Here are Mark and Jonah keeping Sean company right before his hair was sheared off. (Really, Jonah and Mark were excited, even if they don't much look like it here!)

Mark and Sean, post-shave.

I was so proud of all the boys! Even if I couldn't quite tell them apart. It's hard enough to pick them out on the playground, since they all wear the same school uniform. And it was even harder when they no longer had hair to help distinguish them! One boy even called out to a smaller boy, until he realized it was the wrong kid.

"Sorry!" he said. "I thought you were my little brother."

I'm so proud of my little guy, who really lives up to the definition of a hero. And he's excited that he gets to wear his new Dodgers hat to school to prevent sunburning his scalp. So I guess it's an all around winning situation. :-)

Hair today, gone tomorrow

When Mark woke up yesterday, he was just your average 9-year-old sorely in need of a haircut. By day's end, he'd received both the haircut and the hero status that went with it.

Mark's school held a St. Baldrick's head shaving event yesterday, and I'm proud to say my son was a participant. He shaved off his hair to help fight childhood cancer, and he did it in honor of a friend currently battling cancer. Yep, you can safely say that I was the proudest mom around yesterday.

He was very nervous about the whole thing, because that kid really loves his hair. But when he promised to shave it back in January, I promised he wouldn't have to cut it until the shaving. The promise of no haircuts between then and now was powerful incentive.

My cousin Kathleen had a great idea for easing him into the haircut -- she suggested we each cut off a lock of his hair beforehand. But Mark didn't like that idea, and hid behind the patio furniture to elude her. She trapped him, and cut off a small bit, while I videotaped it and tried really hard not to laugh.

Mark then ran out the front door, and when I followed him, he ran around the corner wielding a Super Soaker squirt gun.

"Never!" he shouted, shooting water at me. "You won't get any more of my hair!"

So I was a little nervous he was going to back out at the last minute. But my fears were completely unfounded. When they called kids onstage, Mark bounded up there like a little trooper.

There were about 50 kids from his school participating, but Mark was the only kid from his class. His teacher, Mr. Robinson, was there and jumped onstage to do the first shave. He took the clippers and shaved off a huge swath of hair, leaving a shiny white path across the middle of Mark's head. Mark didn't complain a bit.

Mr. Robinson passed the clippers back to the hair stylist, who spent the next four minutes shaving off the rest of Mark's hair. When Mark finished and stood up, the crowd cheered. His hand instinctively reached for his head, rubbing where only moments before, hair had been.

"It feels weird," he said. "But at least I still have whiskers."

"You mean stubble?" I asked, rubbing the minute hairs left on his head.

"Yeah, stubble." He sighed. "I should've asked for a 1," he said, referring to the clipper level which would've left him with a tiny layer of hair.

Did I mention how proud I was of him??? I couldn't stop rubbing his bald head, and telling him that.

"I know," he said when I told him again how proud I was. "You said that a million, jillion times already!"

It was a fun event to watch. One by one, the participants took the stage, most with longish hair. Once shaved, they left the stage, rubbing their heads, and were met by friends or family members offstage who did the same thing. It was funny to see all the shiny white heads, and the hairlines of where hair used to be.

Mark got a t-shirt and button to commemorate the event, and I took about a hundred pictures of him newly-shorn. His teacher congratulated him, then delivered the best news ever.

"You can wear a baseball hat to school tomorrow," he told Mark, so Mark wouldn't get sunburned. Mark was thrilled at that, although a little less thrilled when he got home and discovered that his favorite hat was too big now, sans hair.

Mark was also thrilled to get an ice cream cone out of the deal. (Hey, he earned it!)

After the shaving, we went to Scott and Mary's house for dinner. His cousins were all there, and excited to see Mark's head. Except for 2-year-old Johnny, that is. Johnny was excited to see me, because that meant Mark was somewhere close by, but he didn't recognize him.

"Look Johnny, it's Mark," I said, pointing at Mark. But Johnny's eyebrows shot straight up. He didn't recognize Mark at all, and wasn't sure of that bald kid in front of him. He looked from me to Mark, then back again, and finally ran away.

Scott and Smed also congratulated Mark, saying he resembled a Buddhist monk.

"Where's your hair?" Scott asked, to which Mark answered, "Hey, at least I've still got my appendix!" (Which was only funny because Scott lived after his appendix burst.)

It was hilarious to watch Mark run through the house. It definitely took some getting used to seeing that bald head.

When we got home, Mark readied himself for bed, and rubbed his head once more.

"My head feels funny on the pillow!" he called, making me giggle.

It was weird though, to pass his room, and see that stubbly head on the pillow. And even weirder to see him wake up this morning. I'm still not used to the hairless head yet.

But enough of my impressions, here are some pics so you can see for yourself.

The "before" picture

The "during" picture

The "after" picture

Still feeling the "whiskers"

With Mr. Robinson