This morning, my little girl became….a little girl with pierced ears. I’m not willing to allow her to be anything more than that just yet. Even though she sometimes thinks she’s 19, she’s not and she can’t argue with me about that fact.
I’ll start by telling a story about my little sister, Mairead, known to many as Mae Mae. When I was 7 years old, my Godmother, Eileen Bradley, gave me the gift of pierced ears for my birthday. This was controversial in my house because my parents did not approve of us having pierced ears. I don’t know what they thought it reflected in a young girl when she had cute little stud earrings, but apparently it was bad. Good Ole Eileen didn’t see it that way so she felt she’d help me out by gifting me pierced ears. You can’t give back a gift!
Because I got to have my ears pierced, my older sister had to have her ears pierced. That was only fair. And, because we got to have our ears pierced, Mairead had to have hers done as well. Mairead was only 3 years old. The jewelry store had just one person there so she did one ear at a time instead of the double whammy get it over with in one double hole punch with one machinist on each ear method.
The gal punched the first ear and Mairead was gone. She jumped out of the tall swivel chair, out of the store, and through Stanford Shopping Center. When we caught up to her, she refused to go back and have the other ear done. It took about a week to get her back there.
I did not tell Niamh that story until after both her ears were bejeweled. I don’t think it would have mattered because apparently all these years of Finn beating her up has made her tough.Just in case she needed a hand to squeeze, she held mine. I was still able to video the procedure while Steve took photos.
Those Sneaks, they did it on the 2 count! All she said was It startled me.
When it was all over, we went to Taco Del Mar for a birthday burrito. It was Niamh’s choice of restaurant. We offered her Tutti Bella, Boom Noodle, Gorditos, Canlis. But, a girl wants what a girl wants and this girl wanted TDM.
On a somewhat related note, because today commemorates the day I first experienced the joy of an epidural, I was reflecting on my amazing ability to labor and I remembered my birth ball. I love to buy stuff, and after attending my birth class, I was convinced that I needed to buy a birth ball. I don’t remember when or why I was supposed to use it. I do remember it wasn’t cheap and I had to have it. Somewhere in the beginning of my third trimester, our dog Eddy ate the birth ball. I had to buy another one. The second one wasn’t cheap either. I’m sure I also paid for express shipping just in case I went in to early labor. I had to have the birth ball available to me. Turns out, my labor was short lived and there was no time to bounce on the ball. Some time in the first few days Niamh was home, Eddy ate the second birth ball. It was his cry for attention. I didn’t deserve it. I’m sure if Eddy had paid closer attention to Niamh’s incessant loud screams for her own attention, Eddy would have felt I had suffered enough and he would have left me my birth ball to throw myself against when all sanity was lost. Instead I drank (I drink).
Cheers, Niamh. I love love love you.