This morning, because the twins had school, I combed their hair.

The past two times I have picked them up at the end of their day, they’ve sported new hairdos, courtesy of the young women who care for them in the toddler room. Adorable, sweet, girly hairdos, the likes of which I am incapable of producing.

Most days, I leave their long, flowing hair as is. I mean, they don’t look like urchins. Not, at least, since I had their bangs cut. But I do tend to let them wander on the unkempt side of the street.

Today, as I pulled Jules’ long blond wavy locks into a hasty but acceptable pony tail, I once again cursed myself for not living closer to my extended family. The girls have wonderful grandmothers and an aunt (plus?) who could fashion their beautiful hair into lovely - and presentable - dos. As it is, they are stuck with me.

See, my girls have a reformed tomboy for a mom. A reformed tomboy who has lived almost exclusively with males for the past 20 years (which sounds better than it was, honestly). My primping and styling skills, never highly developed to begin with, have gone to seed. Now that I have daughters though, and daughters who possess in-born passions for all things fluffy, glittery, and girly, I am going to have to get up to speed. Starting with untangled hair.