20/04/2011 15:22 BST | Updated 22/05/2015 06:12 BST

The Newborn Diaries: Bald Baby Or Goldilock

Baby Diana
has grown remarkably over the last several months. Most notably, her cheeks are ever-chubbsing, but considering she's now in the 12-18 month size range (except for a bizarre 3-6 month cardi from John Lewis which continues to mysteriously fit), I'm confident she's growing everywhere.

Except her hair.

Diana is (and I feel like I should write this in a whisper): Bald.

Eight-months-old and still almost completely bald other than a lock or two of white-blonde-but-reddish-in-the-sun hair. Her new nickname? Goldilock.

Other than putting copious amounts of sun cream on her bald pate, I am not particularly stressed about Diana's lack of tresses, even though many other babies her age seem to already be sporting bouffants, quiffs or significant plumage (in fact, some were born with a full head of hair, lost it all and have already grown it back in the time it's taken baby D to grow her centimetre-long strands). Some even already have a haircare regime - or rather, brushing is involved.

Baby D's lack of hair does seem perplexing to others, however. It makes her look younger than she is, so people keep on assuming she's a four-month-old giantess who is remarkably developmentally advanced. (I don't bother correcting them.)

The other issue with Diana's baldness? I'm pretty sure it makes everyone think she's a boy.

OK, there may be several reasons for this. I'm not particularly fussed about "gender-appropriate" dressing and baby D is often in clothes from the boys' section and "non-girlish" colours like grey and blue. She also looks like a doppelgänger of her father.

But one mum whose baby son is far from being follicularly-challenged told me he is sometimes mistaken for a girl, so I'm now convinced hair plays a role in baby gender confusion.

In fact, one gentleman was so adamant baby D was male that he asked me if I was sure she was a girl when I corrected him after he remarked that my son was sweet.

I was more disturbed than insulted. At the time of the incident, baby D was clad in her winter coat, which happens to be white faux fur. Do people think I'm trying to raise a pimp?

Anyway, as far as I'm concerned, there's no rush for baby D to get sucked into the lifetime struggle that female hair maintenance entails. I am sure I will have plenty of awkward cuts and hair dye disasters to remedy in the coming years.

I am far too busy fretting about my own hair at the moment. You see, baby D has an affinity for it. Not stroking it - pulling it out.