I love going to get my haircut. Maybe that's why I opted for a shorter do, it means I have to go back a little more frequently than once a year. My favorite part is the hair wash. Head resting back, warm water trickling down my scalp, soft yet firm hands massaging my head. Five minutes of absolutely blissful silence. How can you not love a good haircut?
My older son hated haircuts. I used to cut his hair. Not because I can or was good at it, there was no other way. This is where I mention that he's speech impaired due to autism. But that doesn't really define him. Anyways, starting at 3 he'd howl, melt down and move like a crazy flag caught in a wind storm. No amount of candy or favorite video could entice him to change his mind. And not something you really want to approach with a pair of sharp scissors. So I waited until he fell asleep. Of course when that finally happened, I'm a little blurry-eyed too. We'd wake up in the morning to find little tuffs of hair poking out where I missed or one side completely undone because he was laying on that side and woke up when I tried moving his head. Then we moved and had access to a really cool pool and finally I had some leverage. At 6 years old it was still a struggle but his movements were less jerky and meltdowns were shorter knowing once we finished we could go swimming. And all done while he was awake, Yeah! At 8 years we peeked in a barber shop, he heard the razors and promptly turned around. I started plugging in a razor so he could get used to the noise and vibrations. Finally at age 9 I started to use a razor and the ensuing meltdowns were due to my really bad hack jobs. The good news was he could tolerate the noise so I told my husband it was his turn. The first time he took our son to the hair salon, he cried and moved around but he eventually let them cut his hair. The second time he didn't cry but did reach out and kind of 'copped' a feel on the lady cutting his hair. I want to believe he reached out to get her attention because he hasn't done that again. Though out of embarrassment my husband left a larger tip that time. He was still unhappy though. He missed his hair. By 11 years, I noticed when he came back it wasn't the basic buzz cut, it was a bit more stylish. Longer on the top, short on the sides. He likes to add gel, making it spiky and then goes around pretending he's a porcupine. His laugh is pretty infectious when you give a little 'ouch' from the pokey hair.
Today he is another year older and haircuts are no longer a problem. I'm a mixture of happiness and sadness as I reflect back on the little baby steps and achievements we've made through the years. His growth and maturity have snuck up on me and I realize that though we give him gifts on his birthday, he's the one that has always managed to give me exactly what I needed, be it the patience to accept his timetable or the problem solving skills I never thought I needed to acquire. He made me think outside the box because I couldn't compare him to any development chart or set certain expectations based on age. I came to appreciate the small things that I would have taken for granted otherwise. I can't wait to learn what he'll be giving me next. Happy Birthday!
Love, mom
No comments:
Post a Comment