Hairdressing – With A Side Of Honesty

Since having kids one of my favourite things to do is going to get my hair done.

Yes of course covering the ever-thickening grey strands with a healthy dollop of artificial colour is a highlight (forgive the coiffeur humour!) but actually the best bit is sitting down for an extended period of time with people bringing me magazines and hot drinks.

A rarity these days, to state the bleeding obvious.

The thing I’ve never been that keen on about the hairdressers however is the chit chat, the small talk etiquette of it all.

For some reason I get really paranoid that I’m not giving the hairdresser good value in the chinwag department. Do they want to talk? Are they sick of talking? Why do the stylist and customer over there appear to be actual besties when I can’t think of anything interesting to say?

It’s bloody ridiculous, but sometimes I get so tense about the ‘awkward silence’ that I’ve sunk as low as asking my hairdresser about their holiday plans! I know that’s supposed to be their line but there’s only so much conversation you can have about the current state of salon straighteners…

What is even worst though, and I know I’m not alone here, is dragging the kids to have their tresses trimmed. There is literally nothing so stressful – except perhaps making them have their feet measured, or getting them to stop running around in cinema.

Thankfully these days now that she’s five Mini-me has quite taken to it all. Mainly because we’ve started going to a new place where they use ‘princess glitter spray’ and because I let her watch the iPad.

Blue-eyed boy however is another story.

Not only does he HATE the hairdressers, but ‘The A Word’ means that any outing to the barbers is now fraught with even more stress and, well, just basic hideousness.

We start gearing up to it several hours (or days) before actually leaving the house and only then attempt the trip armed to the gills with snacks little man is happy to consume this week, with at least a couple of episodes of Twirlywoos downloaded onto phone in case, horrors!, the Wifi signal doesn’t work.

Once I’ve actually got him in the chair, I then have to plonk Beebies entertainment directly in his line of vision, plead with hairdresser not to obstruct view with brushes etc., have snacks open and handy just in case of need, and all this while simultaneously holding Blue-eyed boy’s arms down so the snipping can actually take place.

And god, the bit where they try to cut around his ears, or use the clippers. Let’s not talk about it or I might start getting emotional!

The sensory issues triggered by his ASD mean that Blue-eyed boy hates certain materials and the feeling of them on his skin, so trying to put on the bib protector thingy is a total non-starter and can cause him real distress.

He also hates having water sprayed onto his hair, the feel of the scissors, the hairdresser actually touching his hair, and any residual noise interfering with his enjoyment of Great Big Hoo and gang. So a fun time is guaranteed for all.

On our visit this week (put off I might add until my poor child was sporting an actual mullet) I decided to try a new tack – honesty. It’s all part of the adapting to ASD you see. I figure I’m going to have to explain Blue-eyed boy’s condition so many times in the coming months and years that I might as well start as I mean to go on.

So when the hairdresser expressed surprise that little man didn’t like the dinosaur cape that usually goes down a storm, and in fact screamed the house down when confronted with it, instead of mumbling something about him ‘having a bad day’ I told the truth.

I told her that my son has autism, that he’s been recently diagnosed so we’re all still getting used to it and that his symptoms on any given day can include: chewing his clothes, having a meltdown if a piece of fruit he ate yesterday is put on his plate, slapping away other children if he feels they get too close and using language sparingly and only when he feels like it.

I said that ASD is actually very common and could even affect up to one in 60 children. And then I apologised if all this would make her job a bit more difficult than usual on this occasion.

Not only did she not mind, she was actually interested. She took account of what I’d said and tried to make Blue-eyed boy as comfortable as possible. Working together we even managed to keep him in the chair long enough for a pretty respectable cut.

So the upshot is that I think I’ll be sticking with this new honest approach to hairdressing – and other outings.

It just probably won’t extend to not stressing out over small talk etiquette.

Advertisements

Just Call Me Superhero School Run Mum…

It’s official. I frickin’ HATE the school run.

What’s not to love about always, ALWAYS being late. Sprinting down the road with coats, bags and offspring trailing behind you, as other parents are already returning to their cars?!!

It’s the equivalent of being lapped I tell you.

It’s got so bad that I actually now frequently refer to the school run as ‘Mummy’s Walk of Shame’. And I’m pretty sure I’ve been mentally blacklisted by the head. Poor Mini-me…

Now what is so difficult you may ask about getting pint-sized people up, cleaned, dressed, fed and out? And I totally get you. Other parents seem to manage perfectly well. Many of my friends (some with three or more children) seem to manage perfectly well – so why the hell can’t I get my arse in gear and do the same?!

It’s a question I’m continually asking myself believe me. Often I congratulate myself on having a few minutes to spare, but then before I know it the clock is mocking me again, Mini-me is shouting up the stairs about my continual lateness and we screech the car out of the drive for today’s thrilling and slightly sweaty obstacle race.

The other day, as Mini-me quizzically surveyed her stressed mother from the back seat, she announced: “Mummy, if I was a superhero I could make sure we got to school on time every day. I could fly us there, and you could hang off my leg.

“Or, maybe you could be the superhero and that would mean we got there on time.”

Wishful thinking Mini-me, but what the hell…

Here, in the spirit of what I should be aspiring to (and Mini-me’s current obsession with dressing up) I give you the manifesto of Superhero School Run Mum. Curse her!

 

  1. Superhero School Run Mum is not fazed by inclement weather. She leaps puddles in the style of Greg Rutherford, and never forgets to pack spare socks for soggy offspring.

 

  1. Superhero School Run Mum never looks anything but well put together. Her ponytail is always sleek and she has never once sported ‘visible t-shirt sweat stripes under bra’.

 

  1. While for others the clock may sneer: ‘You should have left three minutes ago and you’re still not dressed’, Superhero School Run Mum can actually turn back time, and even enjoys a hot beverage pre 9am.

 

  1. You will never find Superhero School Run Mum lying on the bedroom floor swearing like a sailor while trying to force her legs into skinny jeans straight from the dryer in the style of a slightly ageing overweight sausage dog. No, she breaks in her denim the night before and has never heard of ‘styling out a muffin top.’

 

  1. When Superhero School Run Mum’s other half asks where his shirt, wallet or sanity is, she would never dream of replying: ‘How the f*** should I know. Do I look like your mother?!’

 

  1. Shouting is something you will never hear from Superhero School Run Mum. Her house is like something out of The Waltons, even at 7am. And as for kicking the car door, or muttering repeatedly under her breath: ‘I hate the sodding school run’, why it’s unthinkable.

 

  1. Superhero School Run Mum’s offspring eat a proper breakfast that includes all the major food groups. Gwyneth’s latest cook book takes pride of place in her kitchen, Nutella is banned and no one mentions the iPad before school, let alone uses it for bribery purposes…

 

  1. Superhero School Run Mum’s friends wouldn’t dream of chuckling about her lateness. Indeed she is known for arriving earlier than everyone else at the school playground and can always be relied upon for her soothing company.

 

  1. Not once has Superhero School Run Mum got all the way home and then realised she is still carrying her child’s book bag – and then had to make a return trip in torrential rain.

 

  1. Superhero School Run Mum is always the best source of knowledge for dates, school trips, homework deadlines, charity events, clubs and non-school uniform days. And she has never once ranted over sorting out something for Show and Tell.

 

Personally I think we should shoot the b****, but each to their own…