When I was little I desperately wanted long hair…really long hair. My sister did, too, so this was a common theme to our dress up games. We wanted to have hair like Chrystal Gale (circa 1970s) all the way down to our knees. I realize now that this is completely ridiculous, but at the ripe age of five, I thought hair like that was sooooo beautiful and princessy. My sister and I would put my mom's silk slips on our heads and pretend this was our long hair, brushing it together in long dramatic sweeping strokes. (Clearly we were very imaginative because a white slip really looks nothing like hair, but I digress.)
Gwendolyn also loves long hair. Since she was a baby she loved helping me brush mine and she loves talking about hers. Lately it seems her hair keeps sprouting in surges. I swear she wakes up and it is suddenly 20% longer. Bill always makes a big deal about how long her hair is when he blows it dry. In fact, her favorite thing to do is look in the mirror after their “Daddy Beauty Salon” and watch it swish. Well, it is now long enough for her to hold and Gwendolyn couldn't be happier. Bill put it in her hand for the first time recently and she looked like she may burst with pride. She now likes to twirl her hair with her fingers while she watches a movie or while she's getting ready for bed. And this week she insisted we send Hayden a picture of her holding her long hair. Our little Rapunzel. 