Josiah’s hair is getting long. Quite long actually. I started thinking early this morning how easy it would be if he were a girl. We could let his hair grow and grow and grow. It wouldn’t matter how long it got because long hair on a girl is fine. Not so fine on a little boy.

He’s needed a haircut for a while. He is way overdue. When Josiah gets his hair cut we typically have it done in a buzz cut. We have it cut as short as possible and it looks really cute that way. The real reason we get it cut so short is because the entire experience is horrendous. Josiah detests getting his hair cut. No one wants to put the boy through such an ordeal. So getting it cut super short means we have to do it less frequently.

Rick found a place close to home that will endure Josiah’s shrieks and screams and squirmings.
The women there are so sweet. Usually, Rick will sit with Josiah in his lap. A cape goes over the both of them and then the fun begins. It takes 3 people to hold Josiah down while the brave woman chosen for the deed, carefully maneuvers around his flailing arms and bobbing head to get to his hair.

She works as quickly as she can. She smiles as if to say it’s really no big deal, this happens all the time. We, of course, know it doesn’t. It’s quite an ordeal to get through the entire process. We tip these women well. When the experience ends, Josiah is exhausted. His face is red, his nose is runny, he has hair trimmings everywhere. Rick is wiped out. They both come home and jump in the shower to rinse off all the excess hair.

Josiah heaves deep sighs. He needs lots of comfort at this point. We hold him and try our best to help him calm down. We hope many, many months go by before any of us have to endure this process again. Ultimately, we know it will just be a matter of weeks before he needs another cut. So, we wait. We let lots of time lapse. Much more time than we should. No one wants to put the poor boy through such torture. I’ve tried various strategies to make the experience more tolerable for everyone.

I’ve shown Josiah social story videos of a little boy happily getting his hair cut. He goes through each step in the process with a smile on his face, explaining exactly what he does, what the hair dresser does and how thrilled he is to have a new hair cut at the end.

If only it were that simple. Show Josiah a video, walk in and mimic the boy in the story. Ha.
It doesn’t quite work as easily as that. So, I’ve tried desensitizing Josiah to hair clippers. Every so often, I pull out the vibrating ‘monster’ and let Josiah hold it. With a guard in place so he won’t get cut, I carefully rub it up and down his arms. I hold it against his back. I position it carefully against his head, always praising, encouraging and rewarding him for being so agreeable to it all.

After days and days of this, I think he’s ready. I attempt to maneuver up to his head to do an actual cut. Of course I have no idea how it will look once I am finished. I don’t know how to cut hair, but if it will be the less traumatic route for him, I’m all over it.  Josiah will have none of it. He knows this is not our fun ‘game’. He knows this is the real deal and he will NOT participate.

So, the hair grows and grows and grows. Every weekend, either Rick or I will casually mention Josiah needs a hair cut. Or one of us will comment on how long his hair is getting. The gel we’ve been using to train his hair to part to one side and stay out of his eyes, only works for a short while. He looks adorable when he leaves for school in the morning. When I pick him up at the end of the day, the hair is hanging again, right over his eyes.

This morning I had a new plan. Josiah loves taking a bath. I plopped him in a tub full of warm, bubbly water. I distracted him with a string of shiny, metalic beads, another favorite. I had a pair of hair cutting scissors in one hand and a plastic comb in the other. When he was seemingly oblivious to my presence, I started in.

I got a few great snips at the long locks in the back, hanging down his neck. But that was about it. Suddenly, he was all too aware of me and was pulling away. I gave him the comb and turned on the bathtub jets to get the water moving. He just needed another distraction.

It took about 20 minutes and with that I was only able to get about 6-7 cuts out of his hair. Not quite what I had envisioned. His side burns are ridiculously long. But he would not let me get even remotely close to the side of his head. All I was able to do was trim up the back a bit.

Initially, I was so excited. I figured this was going to be the perfect way to accomplish Josiah’s hair cuts. He would play in the tub. I would learn to bob and weave around the bubbles and achieve the perfect hair cut. I would master my technique and horrendous hair cutting trips to the salon would be over for us.

So much for my intentions. At breakfast, when Josiah’s hair was dry and I could see the results of my efforts, I realized I needed another approach. The back actually looks pretty good. There is one side that needs to be shortened a bit to match the rest, but for the most part, one tiny little place on his head looks well maintained. The rest is still entirely too long.

I really do not want to put Josiah, or Rick or the sweet ladies down at the salon through another nightmarish experience. So, I have a new plan. Tonight, right after the Melatonin kicks in and Josiah is in a deep sleep, I will attempt to finish what I started. He can’t really refuse if he’s sound asleep right?

So much for the bathtub barber. Tonight I will be the bedroom barber. Life is ever an adventure at our house. Just call me Sandy scissorhands!