Michael’s sensory issues have been rather challenging when it comes to his hair. He won’t let me brush it, wash it with any regularity or to any real level of completion. He doesn’t like people touching it. It generally drives him nuts. So we got into this habit: Michael’s hair grows and grows and grows, and one night, when a grownup can stay up later than him and wait for him to be dead to the world, said grownup pulls out the scissors and cuts his bangs and the back of his hair off. Of course, he usually wakes up, or gets twitchy with the first snips and the touching and it takes nearly a week to actually get it cut unless he’s sick and dead to the world or something.

To summarize: cutting Michael’s hair sucks.

And it’s sad. Because his hair is gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. It’s thick and straight and while it’s “just brown” it has all sorts of colors in there and its shiny and it just bounces and… well, it’s gorgeous. See, here’s my baby with a lot of hair:

Town Fair, Parade DaySee that beautiful boy? See the shine? See how thick it is? And this is rather trimmed. He’d had a “good haircut” (read: had it chopped all to hell and back) a few weeks before. His hair grows quickly. And it hangs in his face. See those long bangs? Imagine them DOWN, because that’s the way they normally fall. Seriously… thick beautiful long soft bouncy gorgeous hair. Can you tell I love my baby’s hair? *sigh*

Fast forward. Michael’s sensory issues are getting worse, not better, when it comes to his head. We can’t even really touch it now. And when I get the scissors out and he hasn’t been asleep for like 3 hours, then it just doesn’t work; he hears the “snip” and wakes up.

Then I got this crazy idea to use clippers on his hair. I searched for non-electric clippers. They have them! They’re called scissors. That doesn’t do me any good. They have these awesome combs that you just brush through their hair that cuts it over a blade… but you know, he’d have to be still for that. That left buzzing it, and I couldn’t stand the idea of it. And anyway, really, if he won’t let you touch his head, is he really going to let you buzz his head?

Finally I decided that even if it took a week of nights, I would do it. I’d put a towel under his head, buzz a stripe or two until he woke up, then put it away  until the next night, eventually getting his whole head. I was determined.

And last night, I was motivated.

We laid out a towel. We brought in the clippers. We turned on the light and set a paper plate next to us to hold the chunks of hair as they came off to try to keep them contained when he inevitably started flying around upon waking. And then a funny thing happened.

He didn’t wake up.

He wasn’t medicated. He hadn’t been asleep long. The Wahl clippers are loud. His hair was like 6 inches long. I had to buzz and buzz and buzz some more (we used the one inch guard). Around his ears. Over his forehead. From the nape of his neck. Buzz buzz buzz. Comb comb comb. Buzz buzz buzz. It was crazy. And the kid almost woke up twice: when we were cleaning up with the scissors, and when I was trying to clean his ears. Seriously.

He didn’t even twitch with the noise or the vibration or even the manhandling to flip him over so I could get the other side. Of course, halfway through I took a break, went outside (to give him time to settle after being flipped), and came back in and told Alan “I think I changed my mind.” Um, too late now, chickalina.

So, I present to you, my boy. My baby. My nearly-hairless baby. My baby who doesn’t look like a mop-headed, well, moppet any more. He looks all… grown and stuff. *gulp*

Stylin' and Profilin'

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