The saga of my dd's love/hate relationship with her hair. Journaling reads: When you were a baby, you had no hair at all until you were well past 18 months old. By the time you were two, you were starting to get some, mostly in the back. By the time you were three, you had the most beautiful blonde ringlets. Peole would ask me often where I took you to have your hair done. I'd always answer "God's Beauty Shop." * People would make comments to you about your hair and your bright, big blue eyes. It got (to) the point where, whenever they said anything, you would look at me and roll your eyes, or else you would bury your head in my shoulder and whisper, "Make them stop." * I was always afraid that you would become vain and focused on your looks because of the attention they got. But you haven't. Just as recently as last month, the guy who handles your bank account commented that you're a very sweet person, not at all rude or stuck-up like a lot of pretty girls. Oh, you DO make sure you look as good as possible before you leave the house, but it isn't the defining point of who you are.