Ears Piered

Dear Cordelia,

You turned four this past weekend and for weeks leading up to your birthday, all that you said you wanted was your: "ears piered." Your BFF, Ava, has her ears pierced, which I suspect is where this sudden desire came from. I explained the procedure, that it would hurt, that you'd have to wear the same earrings for a long time (and not my peacock feather earrings), and you still said that you wanted them done. Wish granted, then!

The days were passing and you still insisted that this was what you wanted. We talked about it enough that eventually Rachel changed her mind and decided maybe she didn't want to wait until she was seven, maybe she did want it done now. Last Thursday night, she came downstairs after bedtime and tearfully told me that she did want to pierce her ears now as well.  I had planned on taking you the next morning, but since Rachel was going to be in school, I waited.

Saturday, after your birthday party, I asked you if you wanted to go get them done. You said, NO. You weren't sure you wanted them done now. I panicked! NO! This was going to be your big gift! It was a long weekend and I had nothing else to wow you with when you turned four! ;) Then you changed your mind again and said yes, you did want them done, but not until you were four. I reminded you that you were turning four TOMORROW.

Monday, after your birthday, I mentioned it again. Again, you said maybe not. Maybe when you were five or six. Tuesday, after preschool, you were back on board. I made the appointment for Wednesday. You, Rachel and I headed over to Visage in the mall. The two of you spent a lot of time hemming and hawing over the earrings you would pick. You eventually settled on the November birthstone which was an orangey-yellow stone. Rachel chose pink flowers. Rachel went first. You skipped around, completely unfazed by any of it. Then it was your turn. You said no. They suggested you sit on my lap, which you accepted.  Your shoulders were up past your ears and you were whining before they even cleaned your lobes. It took a lot of convincing, a lot of reassuring, a lot of glances at the gleefully pierced Rachel dancing around before you were convinced. They lined up the guns and you started crying. 1, 2, 3, done. You kept crying. Lip gloss was not going to pacify this distress.

I suggested ice cream, and your cries settled into wimpers. By the time you were licking your chocolate cone, the tears were dry and you were posing for pictures to send to Auntie Kristi and your cousins.

By the time we got home, you were crying again, complaining that they hurt. I gave you some Advil, let you watch cartoons and you were magically cured again. It took a lot of coaxing to get your ears cleaned at night, more promises from me and Rachel that it was not going to hurt, promises that you could have as much medicine as you needed for as long as you needed if it kept hurting.

Today, you woke up just fine. You went to preschool and practically threw yourself out of the van to show Ava and the other kids your new studs. You proudly told me after pick up that you had even twisted them all by yourself and it didn't hurt.

Cordie, I'm so glad you were brave enough to do this and that you are so happy now that you did it. I loved getting to celebrate what a big girl you are becoming.

Love, Mommy