Pierced!

I'm not a baby piercer. I don't let my very young children decide a lot of hings for themselves (that comes later when they can prove that they are, in fact, developing a human brain), but this is one area in which I waited for the consent of the governed. Something in me could not bring myself to inflict pain on my chubby little monkeys that was neither disciplinary nor innoculating . I totally understand why people do it, and there's no judgement here if you pierced your baby's ears. It just was not for me; ya know?

So, the request finally came, and on her 6th birthday, accompanied by our long lost friend, Georgie, we made our way to Claires in the mall and had my baby skewered. I was really thankful that they were able to work double guns, because I was not about to walk out of there half-pierced. She chose a petite, sparkly pink stud and shed not one tear either before, during, or after.

"Wait! They're gonna do WHAT to my ears?"

Getting sterilized. Very important!

She's all smiles waiting for two giant needles to be plunged into her ear lobes. That bear made all the difference. Fabulous idea!

OUCH!

She couldn't be happier about her pretty new ear holes.

And so, another rite of passage bites the dust. I'm ready to start grounding her if she keeps growing up so fast.