Dads and their little dudes and darlings will once again have a chance to enter the holiday season with stylish hair, thanks to our longtime partner Dove Men+Care and Bishops Cuts/Color.

On Saturday, Dec. 14, all fathers and their offspring can receive a “Holiday Shear” — free haircuts, washes and styling with Dove Men+Care grooming products at 18 Bishops locations across the United States. And, as with last year’s similar promotion between the two businesses, our dads have been asked to be special guests in participating cities where we have City Dads Group chapters.

Holiday Shear is a nationwide initiative designed to give families the gift of quality time during the holiday season.  The events start at 10 a.m. local time and run until closing or the DM+C products run out.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B5tnpH7ngOF/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
City Dads Group chapters in 11 metropolitan areas have arranged Meetup events at their participating Bishops — click the link then check out the group’s schedule on Dec. 14 location and time details:

• Charlotte, N.C. (note: two locations)
• Cincinnati
• Columbus, Ohio
• Denver
• Houston
• Minneapolis (Twin Cities Dads Group)
• New York City
• Phoenix
• Portland, Ore.
• Seattle (Puget Sound Dads Group)
• Sacramento, Calif.

Bishops Cuts/Color is a national chain, founded in Portland, Ore, with more than 100 locations. The predominately minority owned operation offers affordable haircuts and gives back to each of its communities, according to its website.

If you’re unable to attend one of these events, you can check out photos on our Twitter and Instagram social media feeds or by searching #HolidayShear.

DISCLOSURE: City Dads Group chapters have been compensated by Dove Men+Care to participate and promote Holiday Shear. Gratuities are not included, and any other services obtained that day will be charged at regular prices.  No substitutions allowed, and walk-ins (no appointments) only. You must be present to reserve a spot in line.  No rain checks for any services unable to be completed by the end of the event.

Photo: ©Svitlana / Adobe Stock.

Growing up, my dad would take me to get a haircut every two weeks and I used to love it. It was our time to bond and I loved hearing him say how good I looked with my cut.

As I got older, having a fresh cut became a priority, especially in college. It made me feel clean and gave me all the confidence I needed at times!

Now as a dad, I get to experience the same thing with my kids so taking them to get their first haircut is a big deal. We don’t want them coming home with those bowl-shaped cuts. (Fellas, yah know what I’m talking about. Be there, don’t let wifey or grandma take them to get their first haircut without you!)

Getting that first haircut is a rite of passage where I’m from, and here’s what I learned from being there.

A little bribery never hurts

You ever went to a barber shop and see kids screaming, throwing things or simply crying while their parents beg them to be good?

That’s what I envisioned before taking each of my sons to get their first haircut. I expected the worst every single time but also knew that a bribe could go a long way. I bribed both my kids with the allure of having candy after. It worked perfectly for two of them, my youngest though … he wasn’t having it.

Candy wasn’t enough. I actually had to sit down with him while he got his haircut. I never wanted to, but I’ll do anything to keep him from screaming like a madman and embarrassing me. Find what works for your kid and do it!

Never as bad as you thought

Little man is tough and to be honest I expected the absolute worst. We even scheduled him for the last appointment just in case we had to run out of there embarrassed. Got to be prepared at all times!

Remember it’s normal for a child to fear a stranger with clippers and scissors. Don’t give up too early.

All I kept thinking to myself was, if this kid goes crazy we are out of here. Luckily for me, little man sat on my lap and watched YouTube like an angel. He didn’t kick, scream or fight the barber. It was baffling how well he behaved and I’m thankful for it.

Enjoy: There’s only one first haircut

The first of anything you ever do with your kids is special, even when things don’t go as expected. I was expecting my youngest to go bonkers and destroy our first haircut together. However, having him sit on my lap seemed to calm him down.

Eventually, I forgot he was getting a haircut because I started to really watch him maneuver around YouTube. Little man is 2 and was working these shortcuts in the app that I didn’t even know existed.

That was all part of the first haircut experience and I am so glad I was able to be part of it. Somethings you only get to do once so enjoy the memories, good or bad.

Not my first time, but …

Being there to see all three of my sons getting haircuts was a huge blessing. All of them handled the situation differently but provided me with some dope memories I will always cherish.

Even though I have done this before, having to change my approach for all three made it seem like it was the first time each time. I had to bribe each one differently and even though I thought each one would embarrass me, they all behaved well.

There are no do-overs when you are doing something for the first time. You learn from them and keep pushing forward. Salutes to all the barbers out there making this process easier for the dads out there.

A version of this first appeared on Cool4Dads. Photo by Tommy van Kessel on Unsplash.

A mom at preschool was admiring my daughter’s short hair the other day. She complimented the adorable style and turned to her own preschooler — a girl with shoulder-length hair — to encourage her to get the same cut.

“It’s so cute and so easy and comfortable,” the mom said. “Don’t you want to cut your hair into a pixie cut like that?” Her daughter resisted a bit.

“Yes, it is all that,” I told her. “But are you prepared for it?”

I think I genuinely shocked them with my brief warning.

My daughter wanted short hair. We were encouraging and the kids’ salon we use has a stylist who does an amazing job complete with berry-scented glitter and free hair clips as we leave. My little girl feels great about herself and proud of how she looks, all sparkles and shine.

This is the same little girl who frequently refers to herself as a “he” in the third person and wears boyish hand-me-downs from her older brother. You may find her playing with trucks or digging in the dirt with bugs crawling on her. But she usually can be found dressed in pinks and purples, watching a princess story or playing with ponies. She’s comfortable in her skin and being herself.

So this is more about me. Because I’ve asked my daughter how it makes her feel when people in public assume she’s a little boy.

“I don’t care,” she said.

“It doesn’t bother you at all?”

“No, I like my haircut,” she said. Even while day-after-day the grocery checkout lady, the waitress, the stranger at the playground looks at a 4-year-old with short hair and assumes things.

Sometimes we let it go. Especially with her older brother along, the concept of brother-sister comes up quickly. Or, when we’re ordering food, a simple “she’s going to have the chicken fingers” leads to a realization that the speaker has made the wrong guess. Some people are rightfully embarrassed and say so.

No real harm.

My older, wiser, more experienced brain understands the deeper implications, though. You’ve outwardly judged a tiny 4-year-old person based on exterior features. When in doubt, you defaulted to a list of easy, deeply held cultural assumptions about the way female beauty and personhood work. My daughter isn’t old enough to comprehend the full insult of how you’ve reduced her experience as a young woman to the way she comes off to strangers as feminine.

The real shock to the mom who complimented my daughter is that we’d all love to think those old, backward attitudes no longer exist. We’re more enlightened. We live in a progressive community. Many times these are women who are making the error. We never realize how deeply formed these biases, stereotypes, and attitudes are until such a simple, simple mistake happens. Hopefully, it’s a mistake that makes us question why we’re making any snap judgment about someone’s gender, race, etc. We’ve come to rely on shorthand, but when that shorthand fails us it’s a powerful lesson in politely asking if one is unsure rather than stepping on toes.

My daughter’s (yes, adorable) pixie cut isn’t going to end our deeply held cultural discrimination. But encounter after encounter does make me realize how hard I’m going to have to work as a father to keep her comfortable in her own skin like she is right now. My job isn’t to protect her from all this … my job is to prepare her that, from here, it’s only going to get tougher.

A version of this first appeared on Newfangled Dad.

For the tenth time that morning, I checked the clock.

“We’re going to be late for the bus, and for school, if you don’t get up and get moving!” I said.

Our daughter let out a grumble and finally made her way out of bed. I herded her into the bathroom for the first step of her morning routine, then back out to get dressed and brush her hair. As I worked to detangle her golden locks, Olivia turned, looked me straight in the eyes and said: “Pop quiz, hot shot. You’ve been practicing how to braid hair lately and I think I want one. If I don’t get that, things blow up. What do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO?!?!”

I’m not lying to her when I say her counterpoints are completely sound. It is her body, it is an unfair double standard. But I say no one wants to have other kids sign her yearbook: “Have a great summer, Sasquatch.”

+ + +

My 14-year-old daughter and I have the following argument every Sunday night:

Me: Did you do everything you need to do?

Her: What do you mean?

Me: You know what I mean. The list of things we talked about.

Her: (grumble mutter grumble mutter)

Me: It’s not a big deal. Just basic grooming stuff. We’ve talked about this.

Her: You know, it’s really weird that my father is making a big deal about whether or not I shave my legs and armpits.

Me: I agree. It is weird. Did you do it?

Her: Isn’t it my business whether I shave or not?

Me: Yes. That is, it will be completely and totally your own business and nobody else’s when you’re 18.

Her: So I don’t have any personal freedom until I’m 18? Why 18? What’s so magic about being 18?

Me: It’s the age when all young people transform into wizards. You get your special powers, you graduate from Hogwarts, and you get to start deciding whether you want to engage in personal grooming habits or not. Go shave, please.

Her: You know, here’s a thought. It’s my body. I should get to decide whether I want hair on it or not.

Me: You’re not wrong.

Her: Also? You don’t have to shave your legs, right? Isn’t it COMPLETELY sexist that society doesn’t make you shave your legs because you’re a man? I mean, you’re totally hairy.

Me: Again. You’re not wrong. It is a deeply sexist and unfair double standard. I agree completely.

Her: So then why –

Me: Because I said so and I’m the ultimate galactic overlord in this house until you graduate.

Her: Nice.

End scene.

Every. Sunday. Night. Same debate.

Here’s the thing. I’m not lying to her when I say her counterpoints are completely sound. It is her body, it is an unfair double standard, and 18 is an arbitrary invisible line.

And, if I thought for one second that she wanted to go unshaven for political reasons, or to make a social statement, I’d say, “Hell yes, my noble daughter. By all means, take a stand!”

But the real reason she hates shaving is because … Sweet Girl be LAZY. That’s it. That’s all.

I’m mean because teens are meaner

I get it. I’m lazy, too. Shaving is a pain. I don’t like doing it myself. I’ve often considered throwing away my razor, letting my beard grow out, maybe cultivating a super-cool, lumberjack-chic, hipster beard that grows down to my Adam’s apple. Possibly accompanied by a nice handlebar ‘stache. All the kids are doing it. The only real reason I shave my face is because last time I did let my beard grew out, I looked in the mirror and saw Santa Claus staring back at me. So, no.

My only real reason for making her shave her legs and armpits weekly? It has nothing to do with social rules, teen hygiene or grooming etiquette. It’s that teenagers, as a rule, can be mean to each other.

The girl ones can be particularly mean. I just don’t want other kids to see her hairy calves and tease her. She’s a tough girl, she may say she doesn’t care if kids make fun of her, but I say no one wants to have other kids sign her yearbook: “Have a great summer, Sasquatch.”

That’s really my only concern.

Is it a fair one? Is it worth a weekly argument about leg shaving? I don’t know.

Out of all issues to care about, and all the battles worth fighting with my daughter, this barely makes the list. And yet I persist. I’ve even put the annoying grooming ritual on her chore list, the weekly completion of which is the key to receiving her allowance.

Friends of mine who have older kids tell me these fun little adolescent issues work themselves out on their own. Boys and girls both start to engage in basic teen hygiene and grooming as soon as they start checking out their peers at school and feel that little itch of self-consciousness. Next thing you know there’s shaving, fragrancing, eyebrow shaping, makeup, the works. Once they commit to personal appearance, they go all in. (I remember that. When I was 16, I got paranoid about how I smelled, and started worrying that basic deodorant wasn’t doing the trick. Like most guys my age, I started drenching myself in Drakkar Noir every day before going to school. Sorry, every kid who ever sat next to me in class that year.)

So I may just give up soon and let it go. Until then, I remain the Teen Hygiene and Grooming Enforcer.

I will say this, though, just between you and me: while I will continue to force her to shave her legs, I secretly agree with every complaint she has about it. I don’t like there are certain rules she’s being asked to follow simply because she’s a girl, and our culture has particular beliefs about what’s appropriate for those who carry a double X chromosome. Whether my daughter’s resistance to shaving is due to laziness or personal politics, she should get to do whatever she wants. Writing this article might be my way of deciding to get on board with Team Hairy Legs.

But don’t tell her I said that.

Photo: Straight Razor for Teen Hygiene via photopin (license)

Can dad braid his daughter’s hair? He can with some professional help because real men can braid their daughter’s hair.

When my wife asked me to participate in a hair-braiding class with my daughter a few weeks ago, I have to admit I was a little nervous about it. I had never attempted to braid my daughter’s hair because I had no idea where to begin and my wife always did it.

Eventually, I realized it would be a fun bonding opportunity and I agreed to enroll in the class which was called “Real Men Can Braid.” It was put together by Cozy Friedman who runs Cozy’s Cuts, a great kids hair salon in Manhattan.

When I arrived at the class I was still a little tentative, but my daughter immediately assured me that she believed in me. And, that was really all I needed.

The “Real Men Can Braid” class was helpful and informative. We learned about detangling, making ponytails and braids, and even how to put hair up in a bun. Eventually, I gained a little confidence in the task.

The class was also filmed for CBS This Morning and I had a chance to speak to Elaine Quijano, the reporter assigned to the segment. I told her that, although I never envisioned myself in a salon braiding hair, modern dads step up in every other way, so why not this? Indeed, if I am capable of making breakfast, and doing the morning routine, and taking my children to school, aren’t I also capable of making a ponytail? All of these things are parent tasks, not mom tasks. I just needed a little guidance.

So, having shared all other parenting duties with my wife, my parental voyage proceeded toward this final frontier of hair braiding, a strange new world for me but a place to which I am sure many men will go boldly.

Photo: Chris McKee

Editor’s Note: What’s the best way to untangle a hair knot? Here’s an amusing guest blog post from NYC Dads Group member, David Lesser, as he takes us with him on a journey as he solves the dilemma of untangling an enormous knot in his daughter’s hair.

“This is going to sound kind of weird, but you should try peanut butter.”

Ah-OK. Yes, I’ve tried peanut butter. No, this wasn’t for some interesting noodle recipe. Or even a suggestion for a tasty way to top a hamburger (which I’ve never tried, but have heard is oddly delicious). This was the advice I received as a way to get that stubborn, painful, pain-in-the-ass tangle out of my daughter’s hair.

My wife was not as surprised as I was about this helpful hint. “Sure,” she said, “that’s how you get gum out of your hair, but I’ve never heard about it for tangles, though.” But this thing had gotten out of control. I figured the worst-case scenario: It turns into a giant mess, and my daughter, Penny screams a lot, but we all do it together as a family and laugh about it later (probably later that night, once the kids are in bed).

Hair knot meets peanut butter

So we gave it a go. Even though we were instructed to put the PB on dry hair, we put her in the tub with some water doing our best to keep her hair dry. We were looking ahead to cleanup. (I guess we could have put her in crappy clothes and a smock. But we decided against it. We did it this way. What do we know from peanut buttering our kid’s head?) My wife, Allie, put the PB in. I would have used more; but, to each his own.

Then, Allie “let” me take over with the actual detangling process. I guess I’d have to say the PB trick worked well on her hair knot, but not like gangbusters. It was sticky, tedious work. I didn’t bother with a comb or brush, just using my fingers to unknot and untangle the rat’s nest clump of hair. Since Penny was in the tub and I was not, she kept moving away from my already awkward position. So the whole thing was KILLING my back. And she was, as predicted, screaming. I got the toughest of the knots out and decided Penny had had enough; I’d had enough; it was time to move on.

The next phase of this hair knot project involved an absolute “shitload” of conditioner. (“Shitload” is a technical term found in the fine print of the hair conditioner bottle, in the section titled “Only in Emergencies.”) Her hair was fully conditioned, so I used a comb with a lot of space between the teeth. I started combing from the bottom and worked my way up as Allie had instructed me. There was still a good deal of squirming and whining, but not much screaming anymore. I continued to use my fingers to get out the trickiest tangles and we made progress. Distracting Penny with a TV show and a lollipop helped too. Taking it to the next level, she even let me move on to a different comb with smaller teeth.

One hour later — it’s gone!

Holy crap, it was done! And “only” an hour or so after we spread peanut butter on my daughter’s head. There was not a tangle to be seen. What a relief! My wife, near tears of joy, planted a big kiss on me. “I thought we were going to have to cut it off!” she exclaimed with a sigh. I took the praise and the kiss happily. But we agreed that the girl needed a haircut and we had to comb her hair EVERY day, probably twice a day. Even Penny agreed.

We got her haircut. We got a special brush called the “Knot Genie.” (Good stuff, that hair Knot Genie.) She’s even brushing her own hair now, with either Allie or I getting the missed spots. It’s become as regular and necessary a part of the morning ritual as brushing her teeth.

I know that it shouldn’t have taken this hair knot crisis situation to make hair brushing a regular habit, but what can I say? That’s what it took. This is a terrible excuse, but frankly, my daughter Penny was just such a pain in the ass about it! I’d try to brush her hair, and she’d scream. I’d insist, but I knew I was hurting her and, ugh, the whole process just sucked. So I’d skip a day or two. Or a week. Whatever. Eventually, her hair would get so bad that it was beyond ignoring, and I’d struggle through it. And it would be horrible, but I’d get the worst of the knots out. Then, we’d repeat the process. But after this whole sticky, messy, painful for everyone process of detangling, I vow to comb my kid’s hair daily and never let this happen again.

A version of this also appeared on Amateur Idiot/Professional Dad. Photo: ©AS Photo Project / Adobe Stock.

Absolutely- once you have kids, you are relegated to Coach and they rise to Elite Status. Plus for $30, they get to sit in a race car, select a video of their choice for their viewing pleasure, get a helium balloon, and receive an authentic graduation diploma (with a locket of hair attached). In and out in about 14 minutes, Cozy Cuts, made it an enjoyable experience for the parents as well.

Being it was our 19-month-old’s first haircut, proud dad was there capturing the moment with the Flip Mino while mom was on snack patrol, as well as making sure he stayed inside his automobile (seat belts not included in this ride!) Cozy Cuts ran an efficient operation even on a crazy weekend when we showed up without an appointment…and were escorted to our blue Porsche sports car within minutes.

The overall scene: organized chaos. Some kids running around the shop playing tag, other kids in cars (some with smocks on, and a few including my son without it because he ripped it off), tv’s blaring from each station, and some parents watching on while others were sitting in the barber seats holding their child as they squirmed about – who was really getting the haircut in that case? All in a space so tight that to get by our station, people had to wedge through with constant casualties- baskets of merchandise kept tumbling to the floor. The attentive staff and hairstylists were kid-friendly, efficient, and extremely safe with those sharp scissors.

Hmmm, will we go back for another 30-buck experience? The jury is still out. Not that there are too many options in this tremendous town. What I am left wondering, is if my haircuts were this much fun when I was a child. What’s your opinion – Should Your Toddler’s Haircut Cost More Than Yours?