The death of a legend...

Ever since she was born, Lola has rocked a very impressive mullet.

Even when all the hair on top of her head fell out around three or four weeks, the party in the back raged on, thus providing the foundation for a lifelong, legendary hairstyle.

At one point, the mullet began to curl on its own -- making it absolutely impossible for me to even consider cutting it off because I was head over heels for that curl.

Until tonight.

I don't even know what possessed me to do such a drastic and life-altering thing.

She was fresh out of the tub, the mullet (which had actually become more of a rat tail of late) was swinging behind her as she twirled, and before I knew it I had my mother's haircutting scissors in hand.

The moment I made that fateful snip, my heart broke a little and I had to fight back tears.

Holding that chunk of strawberry blonde curls -- it was almost too much for this mama to take.

The good news is, Lola adores her new bob.

She calls it her "little small hair" and spent the evening thanking me profusely for cutting off her "big hair."

This is a relief to me.

I was worried about long-term emotional damage.

Before she even turned one, we would always ask her if we could cut off her mullet.

Her response was always the same (and it never failed to make us laugh): a very firm "no, no, no, no, no!"

I should have listened to her.

I miss my baby's mullet.

Because her little bob makes her look too grown up.

Goodness gracious, my little girl is gorgeous.

PS - Reece might divorce me for cutting off his baby's hair.  The face he gave me when we walked downstairs to show him the new do... let's just say if looks could kill, I would be a zombie (because I'm on kind of a zombie kick these days).

PPS - I am a terrible stylist and will be calling my friend Erica in the morning to clean up the damage.