Quick background: Tommy is my son. He has an intellectual disability and neurodevelopmental traits, and everything in this story is tied to that.
“I want to get a haircut.”
He’s been saying this almost every day for the past week.
I hadn’t been able to find the time, and somehow we made it all the way to today.
It’s Sunday, just past 4 p.m.
If we leave right now, they can still fit him in.
If we miss today, the next chance is probably a week away…
“Okay. Let’s go.”
…That may sound like the most ordinary haircut story in the world.
But for a child with neurodevelopmental traits, this is a miracle.
When he was little, a haircut was a major event
When Tommy was little, I cut his hair at home.
And it was brutal.
What he hated most was the tiny clippings sprinkling down. Hair landing on his neck or his clothes was enough to set off a full-blown meltdown.
In fact, Tommy has always hated sandboxes, clay, and paint. Anything that sticks to his body is a hard no. In his therapy program, he flat-out refused sand play and clay. If someone tried to set him down in a sandbox while holding him, he’d pull his legs up and cling on for dear life, fully committed to never touching the ground.
Even making a handprint for a birthday card was a production. In the end, painting his hand was off the table. Tracing around his hand with a pen for a “handprint-style” card became our default.
So you can imagine what haircuts at home were like.
I held his head. My husband cut. His big sisters kept him busy with cartoons on a tablet and stories. The whole family, all hands on deck.
And still, he sobbed from start to finish.
In the end, we’d hold him down and cut as much as we could by force. That was haircut day at our house.
Yes, I know: by the parenting books, this is a hard no
I know. Nobody wants to hold down a crying child to cut their hair. I certainly didn’t.
So we tried every “small step” we could think of.
What we tried to ease his anxiety
For Tommy, that meant:
- Showing him the scissors, clippers, hair dryer, and cape, and letting him touch them
- Letting him hear the clippers and feel the air from the dryer
- Sitting in a chair in front of the mirror with the cape on
- Then having someone lightly touch his hair while he sat there
We stepped up the experience a little at a time.
We also:
- Explained the steps ahead of time
- Played his favorite Curious George videos to distract him
- Let him hold a favorite toy for comfort
- Never grabbed him suddenly or pushed him to keep going
- Kept it short
None of it worked.
The small steps themselves were fine. He’d grimace, but he could put up with them for a short time. The moment we actually started cutting, though, he’d melt down.
Meanwhile, hair keeps growing. When his bangs got in his eyes, he’d rub his face nonstop, and he pulled out every clip and hair tie we tried.
I even tried cutting his hair while he slept. But sweeping tiny hairs out of the bedding, and snipping a little each night as he rolled around, turned out to be far harder than I’d imagined.
Maybe I didn’t give it enough time. Maybe, with a year or two of very slow progress, we could have gotten there.
But when you try to do the absolute best for your child, it’s the parent who ends up crushed.
So I decided, “We’ll do what we can.” And that left us with one option: the whole family holding down our crying son while we cut.
Then, around fourth grade…
That changed when he was in fourth grade.
He would never set foot in a salon for his own haircut, but he’d happily tag along when his sisters got theirs.
After more than a year of those trips, one day he said:
“I want to get my hair cut here too.”
…Excuse me?
We gave it a try, and there he was, getting a totally normal haircut.
Even the shampoo, which is a battle at home, he seemed to enjoy.
I almost fell over.
What was all that struggle for?
It kind of ticks me off.
No, wait. I’m happy. Really, really happy.
But it still ticks me off. (lol)
Now he wants a haircut “anywhere but home”
Since then, when his bangs start getting in the way after about a month, he asks on his own:
“I want to get a haircut.”
And lately, he adds:
“I want to get a haircut. Not at home.”
…Yep. Still kind of ticks me off. (lol)
But of course, I’m happy.
He can now say on his own, “I want a haircut.” And he knows exactly where he feels safe. That was a huge shift.
A sharp undercut this time
This time, too, the cut went off without a hitch.
He came out with a really cool undercut.
The stylist even managed to hide the round bald patch on the back of his head.
He was thrilled.
Hats off to the stylist.
…Still, kids are truly unpredictable.
So why did Tommy hate haircuts?
For Tommy, the reasons may have included:
- Scissors, clippers, and hair dryers sound scary
- Noise close to his ears is hard to tolerate
- He hates having his head or neck touched
- The pulling sensation on his hair bothers him
- He can’t stand a cape around his neck
- He hates cut hair sticking to his neck, face, and clothes
- Sitting still for a long time is hard for him
- Not knowing what will happen next makes him anxious
- He’s had scary experiences with haircuts in the past
To us it looks like “just a haircut,” but for Tommy it may be a stretch of time when sound, touch, smell, and visual input all hit at once.
Tell your stylist about your child’s neurodevelopmental traits
Before the cut, I gave the stylist specifics:
“He’s sensitive to noise.”
“He hates hair falling on his neck.”
“He doesn’t like being touched suddenly.”
“He can’t sit for long.”
The stylist suggested a black cape, since cut hair shows up on a white one, and used a black cape meant for hair coloring.
What matters most: finding the approach that fits your child
Every child is bothered by different things. What works differs. And the timing of when a child becomes able to do something differs, too.
Tommy’s real “small step” was probably all those times he watched his sisters get their haircuts.
I had only ever thought about getting him used to it a little at a time. But what Tommy needed wasn’t to “try it.” It was to “watch.” Repeated observation, more than gradual hands-on exposure, was probably the right step for him.
When a child can’t do something, there’s a reason. It may simply be too hard right now.
I hope we can keep accepting his feelings, staying beside him, and watching the list of things he can do slowly grow.
But there are things I can’t fully take in, either. Parents are only human. Sometimes I do things I know I shouldn’t, and I end up hating myself for it.
Still, no rush. We’ll take it slowly.
Maybe one day this will suddenly, anticlimactically, resolve itself.