So this happened...
But let me back up a bit.
Ryan HATES haircuts. Always has. I would wait and wait, then it was a horrible crying, hitting, shaking evening of finally getting all sheared.
He has super thick hair, where his little brother has fine, wispy, curly golden locks. Ryan, especially this time of year, needs a haircut.
In the beginning, having tried both clippers and shears, I decided to go with the clippers for Ryan. At least that way, in his floundering about, he couldn't get as hurt as easily. So that's just the way I did it. I had tried asking in a way he might be able to answer, but he didn't seem to have a preference other than NO HAIRCUT! And they stayed violent, frustrating, terrifying experiences for him.
Until about six months ago, that is.
Ryan finally, after the usual "NO HAIRCUT!", said "NO CLIPPERS!"
Well okay then! I used scissors, and his haircuts have been progressively better. We sit in the kitchen floor (I know, but it works for us), I put a towel around his shoulders, and start at the back. I work my way to the sides, leaving the top and then the front for last. The front bothers him the very most, I think because the hair gets in his eyes and face most.
Tonight, before we head to
Eric's convention "The Hotel!" in the morning, I cut all the guys' hair. As Ryan's neared the end, I was silently thanking the Lord for the progress my little man has made. He was sitting still, though hunkered down and trying to snuggle me... and no yelling. No anything. Just the usual, plus the now calmly stated "no clippers" rule.
I was thinking, as I snipped away, about the ease with which he sat there and let me work. I thought about the horrible times that ended with both of us in tears, me agonizing over my impatience and shortcomings as a mother and a person. This was completely different, and I was so thankful.
Still, Ryan hates the hair all over his shirt, arms, and face, so he goes straight to the shower with Daddy's help. As soon as all the cuts and showers were through, it was Daddy's turn.
Daddy likes the clippers, because they get his hair very short and more even than mommy can with the shears. So I got to work, buzzing away. And here comes Ryan.
"Daddy gets the clippers" he says.
"Yes, Daddy likes the clippers, sweetie. Hey... would you like to help?"
I've tried this before, y'all. He has always run screaming. Really. I've tried the "help me give daddy a haircut" approach so many times, always completely freaking him out. The thought of touching the evil clippers was too much for him to take.
"You will help!"
And he did. He helped. Okay, so he poked at his VERY PATIENT Daddy's head, saying, "You will poke away the hair!"
In our world, this is a miracle. It's huge.
He didn't just stay in the room when I asked if he wanted to help... he TOOK THE CLIPPERS and cut some of his Daddy's hair! And he didn't want to stop!!!
Thanks be to God for these things that are so miraculous to us!