Hairstory

For the most part, Peach has always had a chin-length bob, save for the last couple of years when she grew it out over the school year for Perfect Ballet Bun purposes. As soon as she came off the stage at her recital on Saturday, she declared, “I can’t wait to get my hair cut!” So off we went the next day, and she returned home with the Hairdo of Her Youth.

As a baby, she was pretty much bald until she was 2. Then, when her hair finally came in, it was in ringlets. We’re talking Shirley Temple, folks. It was adorable and quite surprising, at least to me, because I always just assumed my children would have stick-straight hair like I did (until this very unfortunate Ted Nugent thing happened a few years back. Gah.). Turns out, T-Bone was one of those pretty-boy babies, with the big eyes and the big curls, who was constantly mistaken for a girl. So Peach got those genes (plus the dimple in the chin), and we went about our days with people always commenting on her curls.

As she’s gotten older, her hair has gotten thicker and more relaxed, so we’re down to a nice amount of body and twice as much hair as I could ever dream of having. When it’s longer, she mostly wears it in a ponytail or headband, but she’ll still indulge me when I want it up on one side with a big ol’ bow, just like the old days. She’s good like that. And it somewhat distracts me from the sobering fact that the child is officially 5 feet tall. Have I mentioned?

So Sunday, after much fixing and admiring and tossing of the hair post-cut, Peach came to me and said:


Mommy, when I look in the mirror now, I see the girl in all those pictures in my old scrapbooks. This is the girl on her first day of preschool. This is the girl riding her little pink scooter. This is the girl holding her newborn baby sister. This is that girl!


Could you just weep? Well, apparently, so could Olive, because at bedtime that night, she started to get upset, and when I asked her what was wrong, she said:


O: Well, (sniff) I’ll tell you. I was just looking at Peach, (sniff) with her new haircut. And well, (sniff) I just started remembering (sniff) when I was younger, (sniff) when I was a baby, (sniff) and she had that hair. (sniff) It just brings me back to memories (sniff) of my younger days, (sniff) when she would hold me, (sniff) and it just makes me cry.

LT: Oh, me too, sweet angel. But happy tears, right?

O: Yes, (sniff). Happy tears. (sniff) It just takes me back to memories.


What to do with these sugar lumps of mine. What to do.