If you’ve read any of my previous labour/breastfeeding stories on the blog then you’ll probably be aware Hector was born with a jet black mop of the softest hair. And it was fairly long to boot. In fact when I saw him for the first time, the first thing I said was ‘just look at all your hair!’ before smothering him in kisses.

My observations were pretty much parroted by every single person that came to visit him in the early days; ‘wow he’s got so much of it’, ‘isn’t it dark’, ‘look how long it is’. Several friends and family members also mentioned that it was worth making the most of it whilst it lasted since it was bound to rub off within a matter of weeks.

It didn’t.

In fact it got thicker and longer and ever so slightly lighter as the weeks progressed. And the curls? Well he’d put Shirley Temple to shame…we’re talking full on cascading ringlets. I’m more than a little bit jealous. It’s safe to say that Hector’s mane has become a part of his identity, a part of what makes Hector who he is.

He LOVES shaking his locks like he’s moshing to rock music, he regularly runs his fingers through it and he plays with it absentmindedly when he’s engaged in a task. And we adore his hair too – full of energy, totally individual, uncontainable and easy to spot from across a room…just like Hector himself.

And we’re not the only ones.

We regularly get comments from people we meet on our travels about Hector’s hair, in the park, at the pub or even as we’re pottering about at the various gardens I manage to drag the boys along to. Generally the comments are split into two camps, those from women and those from men. I say GENERALLY as there will always be exceptions to the rule.

Let’s start with the women….who coo and cluck and wonder over his shaggy mane, who shake their fingers at me and tell me not to cut off those fabulous curls because babyhood doesn’t last all that long and it would be a shame to see them lying on the floor of a hairdressers. They tell me he’s beautiful and that I mustn’t listen to those individuals who tell me that a boy’s hair really shouldn’t be that long. I smile and nod and sometimes blush too because they’re all so ruddy lovely and kind.

Which brings me onto the men…who say the complete opposite. Who scoff and tut and ask me when I’m going to cut it and that what do I think I’m doing bringing up a boy with hair of that length. So I smile and grit my teeth and refrain from making sarcastic retorts about the lack of their own hair and that they really don’t know sod all about Hector and his personal hirsute preferences.

With the exception of Hector’s dad and Grampa and a few male friends (who incidentally adore his current hairstyle) it really has turned into a kind of battle of the sexes which is really rather sad. It’s not as if Hector’s locks are particularly long anyway; they’re a kind of surfer dude-esque, finishing half way between his earlobes and his chin. Ste had longer hair when I first met him in a nightclub 13 years ago so I’m not sure what the fuss is really all about.

Most of all it makes me sad, narked even that people make judgements about me, about Hector and that they feel the need to tell me that they don’t approve. What the bloody hell has it got to do with them anyway? Sorry for the swearing – that’s the frustration and hurt coming out there. Both my mum and Ste tell me to ignore the negativity; Ste has a theory that it’s because it’s just something to say, that they don’t feel comfortable connecting on another (positive?) level and instead revert to semi serious criticism. Perhaps he’s right, personally I’m not sure…either way it doesn’t make it ok. I’d never dream of commenting on such decisions made by another parent.

That’s not to say that I’d insist on Hector having his surfer dude hair forever. If there comes a time (and I’m sure there will) when he asks to have it all cut off then that’s what we’ll do. His hair is his own after all. But for now we both seem happy with how it looks and that’s how it will stay for the short-term.

As it happens I have a hair appointment scheduled for the end of next month, and my hairdresser has offered to trim Hector’s locks for me whilst I’m there knowing how I feel about the milestone. I trust her implicitly; she’s cut my hair for years and even journeyed all the way to Iscoyd Park to style my bonce for me on my wedding day back in 2012. We won’t be trimming much off but just giving it a general tidy up…and those ringlets are staying! I’ll be sure to share a few pictures on my Instagram feed so stay tuned for that.

How do you feel about the hair game? Are there any of you with boys with longer locks? Have you experienced any negativity? Why not share your thoughts with us in the comments box below….