You guys, I cut my son’s hair. I actually did it!

I’d been meaning to for a while, but a mix of procrastination and first-time jitters kept me putting it off.

There were a couple of reasons why I wanted to do it, even though I’m definitely not a hairstyling professional (I can’t even style my own hair to save my life):

Cost savings—my son needs a trip to the barber every 2-3 months.
He’s terrified of the barber, any barber, because of the sounds their tools make (clippers buzzing, blow dryers whirring).

Then one day, I stumbled upon a nifty gadget on Shopee, “Quiet Waterproof Electric Kids Hair Clipper”, it said, and that was the push I needed to finally get a hair clipper. When it arrived, I let my son unwrap it with me, hoping that the excitement over a shiny new “toy” might warm him up to the idea. And guess what? It did. For the next two days, he kept repeating, “Mama will cut my hair,” and he actually seemed pleased about it. A small win, but a win nonetheless!

J’s restlessness grew from a slow simmer to boiling over, and now he was shaking his head, making it impossible for me to finish up with his fringe.

Armed with some YouTube “research,” I finally took the plunge on a Friday night. Lem, being very wise, suggested we wait until the weekend so that if things went south, we’d have the time and emotional capacity to deal with any meltdowns.

Not sure if it was the coffee or my nerves, but my hands were shaking slightly as I prepared to make the first cut. We let J have a rare screen-time moment to keep him distracted from the sound and sensation of the clippers. Even though the product was marketed as “silent,” it still made some noise—just much quieter than the ones at the salon.

Through sheer guesstimation, Lem cheering me on from the sidelines, and Blippi chirping away on the screen, something resembling a haircut began to emerge.

About forty minutes in, J’s restlessness grew from a simmer to boiling over, and now he was shaking his head in an attempt to shake the stray hairs off, making it impossible for me to finish up with his fringe. I had assumed bangs would be the easiest part—how hard could cutting a straight line be? Answer: very hard.

As his complaints grew incessant, I started to have a mama meltdown. I’m ashamed to admit this, but between his flailing and rubbing his eyes, only making things worse as more stray hairs got in, my patience eroded into frustration. I needed him to keep his hands away, keep his head still, stop wailing. Eventually, I decided to abort the mission, leaving the haircut as-is, and we hoisted J down from the chair to clean up.

Lem, noticing my rising agitation, quickly stepped in and told me to take a breather outside. I needed it. If I had stayed, I probably would have said things I’d regret. Meanwhile, Lem calmly de-escalated J’s emotions, then managed to shower, dry, and dress him.

Side note: Lem has gotten so good at maintaining his own calm and defusing emotional bombs. Yes, I mean both our toddler’s and mine. It takes a lot more out of me than it does him to stay composed when J is spiraling.

The next day, I kept scrutinizing my work, checking J’s head from all angles, taking photos, and analyzing them like a crime scene investigator. My perfectionist tendencies kicked in hard. Ugh, the fringe is uneven. Yikes, this part isn’t blended well. Did I just give my son a bowl cut?

Meanwhile, the boy couldn’t care less. His top three life priorities?

Play.
Play.
(Fine, maybe also eat.)

At the end of the day, I’m glad I stepped out of my comfort zone. If I can improve my home barber skills, that’s a cool addition to my mama toolbox. But more importantly, this experience showed me I still have work to do when it comes to regulating my own emotions to help my toddler with his.

Lem was unbothered too. And despite witnessing the chaos, he still offered his own head for me to practice on next. He kept reminding me, “It’s your first attempt. And besides, J’s hair grows back fast!”

God bless my easy-going husband and son.

So, was a DIY home haircut worth it? I’d say yes. I’d still rather save the $12 per trip and avoid the loud wails at the salon, because trust me, J cries murder and disrupts the entire place. That said, there are pros and cons. It’ll take practice to get better, more confident, and faster. I’ll also have to figure out how to make J more comfortable with haircuts—maybe getting a proper cape would help.

At the end of the day, I’m glad I stepped out of my comfort zone. If I can improve my home barber skills, that’s a cool addition to my mama toolbox. But more importantly, this experience showed me I still have work to do when it comes to regulating my own emotions to help my toddler with his. Lem sets a great example—I need to take a leaf out of his book.

We grow as we go.

Some tips from my first attempt—if you’re thinking of trying this too:

Relax screen-time rules (or find another way to help your kiddo sit still).
Build positive associations beforehand. Let them explore the tools (under supervision) to spark curiosity.
Show them pictures of cool haircuts they might want to encourage excitement.
Call in backup! This is not a job for solo-parenting night.
Let go of the outcome…hair grows back! But start small, cut a little at a time to leave room for corrections. Keep it simple, try not to go for fancy hairstyles first.
Choose a location that’s easy to clean. We used the bathroom.

If you’ve cut your own kids’ hair before, how was your experience? If you’re about to go for a first attempt, what are you most nervous about? Let me know in the comments!

PIN THIS FOR LATER / SAVE / SHARE

If you were somehow blessed by this post and would like to share it (with many thanks!), feel free to use this image:

FOLLOW MY JOURNEY

For more relatable mum stories like these, plus faith-filled encouragement on how to simplify and savour motherhood, be sure to follow along my journey @thehearthmakers and sign up for my newsletter!