My kid’s first haircut at Gene Juarez

Gene Juarez is really well known here in the Pacific Northwest. When I was in college, I splurged on a cut and full color and when people would ask where I had my hair done, I yelled, “GENE JUAREZ!” the way I do now whenever the cashier asks if it’ll be credit or debit. “OH IT’LL BE DEBIIIIIIIIT!” Then I do a dance because I had enough liquid funds to buy chewing gum and a Bud Light Mango-rita.

So when I was offered to try out a kid’s haircut at one of the Gene Juarez locations, I thought immediately of my Nathan and said yes right away. He has the best hair of any of us: thick and luscious with gorgeous golden glints, the kind that I wish I had but only can look at fondly because I managed to birth something so beautiful.

The Seattle location at the University Village is gorgeous and sleek, a place I wouldn’t think of bringing my son because he is a young boy who talks about the fart society and how they are recruiting members.  When we arrived, we were already having a frazzled morning but everyone was nice to us, even the beautiful lady who held the door open for us while my kids took forever to waddle in. I had meant to leave my four-year-old at home but the child doth protest too much and the mother was too weak-willed to say no. This left my older kid in. a. mood.

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His stylist Stella was super sweet, despite this kid not saying a word or cracking a smile. I tried to explain that he didn’t want his brother there, he was a little hungry and the well of an eight-year-old’s emotions run so deeeeeep.

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She smiled and patiently talked to Nathan about what he wanted. Because he took a vow of silence and joined some grumpy kid monkhood, she and I talked about what cleaning up the sides but leaving it long on top.

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I think Stella should be named Saint because she was exactly that to my son–friendly and attentive.  Performing the miracles of making his hair look gorgeous despite someone acting like I had sent him to prison. A fancy prison where inmates are offered water and coffee and robes and get their hair washed.

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Look at how terrible his life is!  What an existence!

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The whole process lasted less than an hour, which included my grabbing the four-year-old before ran into the other nice people. A quick haircut that made my handsome little boy even more dashing. I thanked Stella profusely for being so patient and attentive despite my eight-year-old being not elated to receive a free hair cut in such a nice place.

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He finally smiled once we left. “I was shy,” he explained. Oh my son.

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I would definitely take my kids there (both of them!) another time. I wasn’t rushed or punished for bringing these feral creatures and everyone seemed intent on giving us a great experience and my firstborn a great new look. To schedule an appointment for your child (and you!) call 425.373.3700.
I received a free haircut for my son in exchange for a review. This review is 100% my own opinion.

 

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Boys in the woods

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We spent the whole morning trekking through Camp Long, a lush beautiful forest in West Seattle and fortunately, a few minutes from our house.

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Seattle’s summer is so short and for many months of the year, we’re trapped inside our dens because it’s too cold, too wet, too rainy, mommy doesn’t like what the weather does to her hair so here we are at the McDonald’s playland.  Free wifi!

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Nathan led some mediation exercises.  Close your eyes and no, mommy, I didn’t just fart, that was TJ.

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There was a climbing rock and a smaller rock that my kids wanted to attempt without realizing that their mother is the type of person who sees these structures and only thinks of THE WORST THINGS POSSIBLE.  Brain injuries!  Broken arms!  Having put both in diapers because they fell down and suffered brain trauma because no one listened to mommy even though she was yelling, “GET DOWN! GET DOWN!”

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A keeper of my heart, reason for my gray hair.

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My kids don’t realize that when I tell them, “Run around some more!  Try to do it faster this time!”  I’m not being some hardcore gymnastics coach who only wants gold medals, I want them to go to sleep and give me some time to myself and there’s no better way than getting them on their feet to go, go, go.

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Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, “The Tale of the Fart Brothers.”  They spend eternity looking for new members.  Spooky!

 

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