When I first found out I was having a girl, my thoughts immediately went to her hair. Ever since I was young, I've loved to play with people's hair. I would pounce on any head of hair I could find to braid and bedazzle it, crimp and curl, and otherwise experiment with the lovely locks of anyone who would let me. Now, here I would have a little subject of my very own.

Only now that my almost-3-year-old has a full head of very long hair, it's become much more of a pesky problem than a perk. The biggest dilemma -- finding a style we both like (read: not just a big tangled mess that covers her face). It took the good part of a year to get her to let me put pigtails in her hair. Turns out she's doesn't like pigs, but once I called them "sheep tails," she magically acquiesced.

So as the holidays approach with a million photo ops and events to attend with her and hair, I've been collecting some ideas.

I remember getting my ears pierced for the first time (out of many) at 4 years old. It's actually one of my first memories, even. My mom made it pleasant and fun and made sure I was responsible enough to help take good care of them. She also let me know that it WOULD hurt. In fact, the little girl that went before me was older, but bawled and screamed like it was hideously painful. It scared me, so we walked around the mall a bit before I was ready. I ended up not thinking it was that bad after all.

I intend on piercing my own daughter's ears when she's old enough, but unlike my own experience, I won't be taking her to a piercing booth in a mall, and I especially won't be having the piercings done with a piercing gun. The Association of Professional Piercers and Body Modification Ezine, two of the largest information sources on contemporary body modification, are BOTH against gun piercings. Why? I'll tell you.

A memo to the moms who are freaking out about Ben & Jerry's naming their latest ice cream after the eternally funny Saturday Night Live skit Schweddy Balls: Lighten up, will ya? Come on, people. Not only is it ice cream, it's Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Do you really think your kid is contemplating the subtext of the name Half Baked when he's slurping down a cone or reminiscing about his favorite jam band while digging into a bowl of Phish Food?

No. Because, as a mom, I can tell you that double entendres and risqué references are lost on little kids. Whoosh! Right over their heads. Unless you decide to explain the context of a given term, they're not gonna get it (and even if you do explain, they still might not grasp what you're talking about). So to all the mothers who are steamed enough to melt a tub of Chunky Monkey, Schweddy Balls is NOT "vulgar."

It's ice cream!

As a man with a daughter, I'm constantly bombarded with things that I'd always hoped I'd never have to get to know on an academic level. For instance, my daughter is wearing panties now. Those used to be fun. Now they're educational.

And I won't even get started on the fear that I have of training bras and cup sizes. Nope, I'll just stick to my red Solo cups.

Well, before I even get that far in life, I've been introduced to the wonderful world of doing a girl's hair. Yay me. My daughter's hair is a mix of my ultra-wavy, curly locks and her mother's thick and silky hair. I guess that would make her hair wavy, curly, silky, and thick. Basically, my daughter's hair is a parfait. And no, that doesn't make any sense.

Hey there, moms! Looking to get a head start on indoctrinating your daughter to The Beauty Myth? Want her to learn the basics of how to measure her self-worth by her appearance before all the other gals in pre-school? Then book an appointment at a toddler makeover salon, ASAP! That's right, you don't have to be a Toddlers & Tiaras mama to make your daughter prematurely obsessed with her looks. Now there are so-called "princess parlors" where any little girl can go for the full spa experience: Hair, nails, makeup, fake tattoos ... a plethora of neuroses.

There are so many things you don't need with kids -- fancy toys, wipe warmers, top of the line clothing ... I could go on all day. And then there are the things that you don't think about needing, but there never seem to be enough of. Things like these:

They say youth is wasted on the young, and for once, "they" are right. This thought stuck me as I made the announcement that it was bedtime a few nights ago at 8:30 p.m. The announcement was met with shrill screams and feet stomping, by all three of my children. I mean, really, what the hell? They have clean, comfortable rooms. They've been on the go all day long. It's bed, not prison. I think I might drop dead of happiness if someone forced me into bed before 10 o'clock at night. It got me thinking of all the things they fight that I would love ...

My daughter has long hair. It is beautiful, thick, long with curls on the end, gorgeous locks of golden goodness. Moms I know want her hair as theirs. And Kiddo loves her long hair. But with this long hair comes, as many mothers across America know, the (almost) Daily Hair Battle. 

It isn't about how she wears it. It isn't a battle of barrettes versus headbands, braids versus pony tails (or kitty tails, as they are called in our abode). Nope, Kiddo is a good sport, understands that if she's heading to soccer or ballet, her hair needs to be a certain way.

What ignites our mane mash-ups? What causes the war of the tresses? The dang brush.