“I’m not get ready”, Owen said. He walked closer to me, adding more words, “I’m not get ready later nopedy nope”. First, I think the dude wants to stay home. Second, I could see the concentration wash across his face, as he told me. His eyes shifted off, almost like he was looking on the wall for what to say. He really wanted to get his point across. He’s had a great week. He’s slept pretty good, and he is really starting to express more of his feelings. Some days his emotions are like a rippling pool, that flow into a big waterfall; I try to catch every drop in a tiny, little pail, with my own emotions in there, as well. I’ve been cutting parts of his hair for about a week now. Every night I try to cut a little section. I’ve been cutting his hair since he was a baby; often wondering why I never became a hairdresser to non-squirming people. Haircuts are hard for him. That’s why I’ve chosen to do a little at a time. It seems though, as soon as I’m done with it I have to start again. He doesn’t like the sound of the scissors moving, or the hair falling on him, even if it is on his clothes. He says, “cut cut cut”, over, and over again as I do it. Over the years, I’ve tried it different ways, giving him the full haircut at one time always seemed the hardest, with huge tears from both of us; mine always coming later, after I’d put him to bed. Its hard to imagine that something like a haircut could be so hard on my baby, but it is. I’m thankful for his words, and being able to tell me what’s wrong, even if I still don’t understand everything he is trying to explain to me, I know he has made incredible strides. Be proud of your accomplishments, no matter how big, or small, they might feel. Every step forward is a step in the right direction. Celebrate your victories, and celebrate ours. Smiles to all and donut daze!
RSS Feed