An end of an era has come about, with another close behind it.

About two weeks ago on a Saturday, we put Elaine to bed after her dinner and an evening bath. This was about the time when she started insisting that one of us "hang out" with her while she falls asleep, but that's a different story (and much less interesting). This is about Elaine's appearance. Nothing was unusual that evening with her bath or the way we put her down, but had we known what we would wake up to the next morning, we might have taken a few more pictures and clung to her uniqueness just a few minutes longer. What could I be talking about? Well, the next morning, when we went into her room to get her out of her crib, we both looked at her, and then looked at each other, and then back at her, and then we asked her, "Lainey, what happened to your hair?!"

  You see, when your child is known at the local Trader Joe's by almost ALL of the employees as "the baby with the hair," it's a source of ... well, something. Maybe it's a weird kind of pride or just satisfaction in the knowledge that your offspring is being recognized for the ridiculously adorable and unique little human that she is. Everybody remembers Lainey's hair because it stands on end. Or, it DID. That era, it seems, has passed. As we are all too aware, she's growing up. Her hair is too long to stand straight up anymore, and she's starting to look more like a little girl. (This is not to say that her hair isn't still a little wild).

And then there's this (DISCLAIMER: shoddy camera work may not be suitable for those prone to motion sickness, sorry.):

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