Can you spot Big Girl? She's the one with the fabulously long hair I refuse to cut :)
Her first ballet recital. Daddy and I linger in the back. Our smiles are wide.
I watch her flit by, a brilliant blur of soft pink. She is remarkably graceful and confident and I'm swollen with pride.
My little girl leaps across the floor, arms out, loose locks flying. An indelible image. Of youth. Of innocence. Of freedom.
Is there anything better than the feeling of pride? Do you think I should cut her hair or do you applaud my Project Rapunzel?