Punctuated Equilibrium

Stephen Jay Gould theorized that rather than Darwin's idea of a slow, gradual process, evolution is actually characterized by periods of inertia, followed by (relatively) sudden bursts of intense activity. He called it "punctuated equilibrium." When I look at my son, at the ways that his mind and body continue to grow, it makes a kind of intuitive sense.

It's sort of like this: blahblahblahblah [START TO READ] blahblahblah [GROW AN INCH IN LIKE A DAY] blahblahblah ALL OF A SUDDEN DECIDE HAIRCUTS ARE OKAY. And so on.

Of course I know it's not really sudden activity: all the gears have been in motion, and lots of things are happening, above and below the surface, before we see that emerging skill.

Let's consider the haircut.

A while back, I started chronicling Isaac's haircut experiences because, like many kids on the spectrum (as well as some canny adults), having a very large and strange person repeatedly lunge at you with scissors is terrifying.

Add in the surprise and sensory impact of being sprayed with water, the snick-snick of the scissors near your head, the itchy sensation of hair falling on your neck and down your shirt, and it's pretty intolerable.

So we went through a long period of haircut rejection, and the poor lady at the kids' barber shop did the best she could with a writhing, screaming charge.

We tried social stories, and weaving haircut play into Isaac's therapy sessions. We tried waiting it out in front of the barber shop, while kids filed calmly in around us. We tried trimming him at home (Child Protective Services, Style Division, nearly paid a visit). We tried diversions (videos, books, cameras, whatever). Ultimately, we just gutted it out.

Until this summer.

Rather than waiting until haircut time to broach the subject, we just started talking about hair every so often: about how Daddy needed a haircut, about how mommy was going to get her hair cut, about how, in a few weeks time, he'd need one too.

"No haircut," he'd remind us.

And then, suddenly, he decided he was ready. "I want a quiet, soft haircut," he told me the other day. "Not a loud, hard haircut."

"Okay, Isaac," I answered. "When we get there, you can tell the lady what you want."

And he did, in barely a whisper, after I prompted him. This time involved no squirming, no tears, no drama. He chose his chair, he let the lady put a bib on him, he sat and allowed his hair to be cut.

So my suggestion, for whatever it's worth: PECS, social stories, they're a starting point. But we've found that just remembering to talk about things, even if we're not sure how much he's taking in, has made such a difference.

Sometimes it's so gradual that it doesn't even feel like progress. And then there's this punctuation, and then, for a while, lovely, lovely equilibrium.

Comments

[JoyMama]

I don't remember if I've commented before, though I've been lurking for a while. If not - hi, I'm JoyMama!

Thanks for the hope about haircuts, and the "punctuated equilibrium" concept. I cut my four-year-old's hair myself, and I have found that with a favorite video, and a lollipop, and great care to lift the hair one little clump at a time (no snick-snick-snick right across the bangs, thank you!), I can make it bearable. But I'm looking forward to the day when it's easier to tolerate.

[Jordan]

Three cheers for equilibrium! This is a lovely post. Here's to many more quiet hair cuts.

[niksmom]

Brilliant post; you capture the essence of why communication is so important...it's TWO-WAY! Evidence of yet MORE QAP on your part for listening to Isaac and letting him be in control. Major props.

[Christina Shaver]

I'm going to bookmark this post. It is absolutely lovely.

[Kia]

Wonderful! I'm so glad you had a successful haircut experience. It does prove that talking things through with our kids, even if we're not sure how much they're taking in, is still worth it. Good for you! You made it work! :)

[Kate]

What a great post.
And good news on the haircuts.
My kids went back to school to be told they look like rockstars because they haven't had haircuts in about 6 months. And Foster's in LOVE with his long hair. He an't wait for it to be long enough for pigtails (what am I going to do then?) ugh!
You stories of your son - and your Kindergarten adventures - remind me of our family.