Someone should have written "What to expect. . .

. . . when your daughter grows hair." The other day, one of the neighbor girls told me that I should fix Bianca's hair every day. Look, you can put it in ponytails, braids, buns, all sorts of things. "Thanks," I smirked. "I didn't know that."

I never understood how moms got their kid's hair perfect. You know which kids I'm talking about--the kids whose hair in the evening is just as pristine as it was first thing in the morning. The parts are perfect. Not a hair out of place, all gelled up.

I've struggled with this since Bianca grew hair--she was bald for the first year and a half. As soon as I would fix her hair (even with gel and hairspray sometimes), she would take a blanket and play ghost and end up with her hair worse than it began when she crawled out of bed in the morning. Depending on how much energy I had, I'd try to redo it or just throw my hands into the air and give up.

This morning, I decided to try to put Bianca's hair in two ponytails. I got my brush, the clips, and started the part. "What are you doing, mom?" she asked as she gripped onto her hair.

"I'm fixing your hair for kindergarten."

"I don't want ponytails."

"Why?"

"I don't want to look like a baby."

I did it anyway, and she promptly pulled them out. I warned her, you will not play with your friends outside today if you don't leave your hair in. There was wailing, and screaming, and a lot of tears. Finally, I gave up and continued doing the breakfast dishes. She inched a little closer. "Okay, you can do it."

I had to slap the ponytails up very haphazardly as she was already several minutes late to leave for school. As I waved goodbye to her this morning, I wondered whether I should have just let her be that child that looks like she never gets a brush run through her hair. Maybe that would be better than both of us being frustrated every day.