I need to write a book. I need to write a book for every woman who is about to give birth. I need to write a book for every woman who is about to give birth to a baby girl. In this book there will be one chapter. In this one chapter there will be one main thought... one sentence even. It will read:
Under No Circumstances should you pierce your daughter's ears if she is below the age of 25. EVER!
The end.
I bet it is a best seller. Women all over the world will thank me. If a book like this was published when I was pregnant with Emma I would have read it and avoided getting her ears pierced 8 short weeks ago. That is the day that I sold my soul to the cashier at Claire's and my future as the world's greatest mom came to a screeching halt.
Yesterday while I was getting Emma ready for the day, I somehow, accidentally ripped one of her earrings from her little ear. It is not my fault that she has an abnormally large head and the size 5 princess pj's that she was wearing has to be pulled and tugged in order to get it off each morning. She started screaming instantly-not a "OW" type of scream, but a scream that would make Wes Craven wet his pants.
I could not have her walking around with just one earring so the ripped out earring had to be put back into the little hole in her ear that just had a earring ripped out of it. I promised her it wouldn't hurt a bit... even though the ripping of the earring hurt her so much that she felt the need to let the people in Kansas know by the volume of her scream.
It took me 20 minutes to convince her to let me look at her ear. Another 20 minutes to convince her to let me clean her ear with the ear hole cleaner that the skinny little cashier at Claire's sold me... and then it took me another 20 minutes to get my hearing back after Emma screamed even louder from the obvious pain that putting the ear cleaner (which is apparently 100% Satan oil) on her little ear.
I cannot delve any deeper into this story because it involves kicking, crying, thoughts of tying up a child, and even bribery. In the end... Emma had only one earring in and I was pissed off that my husband is deployed. How do you like them apples?
It took me 2o minutes to try and convince her to let me take out the earring that she had left in her other ear because it became crystal clear that I would never, ever be able to get another earring into that ear again.
After 20 minutes, Emma refused to let me take out the other earring so I did something that I am not proud of. I held her down and ripped it out of her ear. OK-calm down... I didn't "rip" it out. I was actually amazed at my steady hands and my cat-like reflexes when it came to dodging flailing arms and getting that earring out in one second flat.
Disaster averted and it only took a moment for me to decide to never let this little girl get her ears pierced again. Well, a moment and 2 hours of screaming... a moment, 2 hours of screaming, and 8 weeks of waiting for the holes to form so that changing her earrings wouldn't hurt... a moment, 2 hours of screaming, 8 weeks of waiting for the holes to form and $47 for the ears to be pierced in the first place.
But the mother-daughter bonding moment we were able to share was priceless. Friggen priceless.
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