By M.H.
When my son, who has PWS, was 6 he cut his
own hair. It was a fairly innocent event. He had been using his scissors for some
artwork and then, unbeknownst to me, decided to play barbers by lining up his
stuffed toys and cutting their fur.
After the camel he ran out of toys and, unwilling to abandon the game,
turned the scissors on himself. The
result brought to mind a dog suffering from mange. I was horrified.
But the barber, to whom I promptly escorted
my son, laughed at my concern and reassured me that this was normal
behaviour. According to him, my son was
only one in a long line of children who required a #1 blade haircut to disguise
their own attempts at barbery. This view
was echoed by several friends who all seemed to have personal experiences of
children doing precisely the same thing, usually right before occasions at
which they needed to be photographed.
So I told myself to chill out and moved on.
This Christmas day, when my son was 11, he
cut his hair again. This time was
different. He had struggled for weeks in
the lead up to Christmas with anxiety about presents, food, visitors, holidays
and who knows what else. On the day
itself he had managed to cope (more or less) until dinner was over and then
retreated to his room for some quiet time.
I had assumed that he would distract himself with a jigsaw or word
puzzle until bedtime and that the worst of his stress was over. But instead he found a scissors and attacked
his hair.
I found him midway through the assault and
removed the scissors, swept up the hair, suggested an alternative activity for
him and hurried to warn the visitors not to comment on his new look.
I knew that this time my friends would not chide
me for being uptight and tell me that "every child does that". So, I didn't tell them. This time there were no jokes from the barber
either. Whereas my son's first
self-administered haircut was a childish game, this one looked like
self-harm. It made me fearful of what he
might do in future and whether the distress that had led to this incident might
someday lead to him seriously hurting himself or others.
None of these are very pleasant
thoughts. But, of course, there is
always something positive to be found if one looks hard enough.
When my son was 6 I doubt I had even heard
of the importance of low expressed emotion, but this time I succeeded quite
well in maintaining a cool facade. When
my son was 6 I not alone felt horrified at his haircut, but I also let him see
this. This time I felt sad but not
horrified. This time I didn't waste my
time or his by asking why he had done it or chastising him for it. Instead, when he was calm, he and I agreed
that from now one we would keep the scissors in the kitchen, which is locked,
and that he would only use a scissors when there was an adult present.
Strangely, this time I felt better able to
cope than I had felt when he was 6 and behaving "normally".
And, despite the ongoing negative impact of
PWS and anxiety, overall I think that everyone in our house had a pretty good
Christmas.
