An Act of Bravery

For the past several weeks London has been begging to get her ears pierced. She is the same age that I was, 7 years old and it seems a logical request. We discussed the responsibility and she nodded in agreement about the particulars. I asked myself if I was ready for it, because truthfully it is a milestone in my own head that signifies that my daughter is growing up. Like many before me, I am elated and nervous by this fact. Her little swaddled sweetness on my husband's shoulder at 3am still sits in my mind clearly, but now she is reading stories out loud to me and successfully navigating 1st grade.

We went swimming first and I savored the fact that they wanted me in the water-so much so that they were yelling loud enough to make it impossible to ignore their pleas. We played games, did shoulder rides, I threw them like flying fish through the water. The giant smiles that lit their faces up and made the blue and green eyes twinkle filled me with joy to spend my day with them at the pool and just have fun together.

After the showers that seemed to last an eternity, we piled in the car with Gramma Karen and headed to the pinnacle of ear piercing; Claire's Boutique at the mall. I captured a photo of London by the entrance and etched it into my own memory at the same time. She selected her first pair of earrings and then we sat in the chair together because she was nervous. I held her on my lap and hoped it wouldn't be too bad. Zoe stood by and observed her big sister. The two women worked in unison and voila! My girl had pierced ears with pretty turquoise flowers. She cried a little and I hugged her, hoping she could feel the empathy mixed with pride that was flowing through me. She perked up soon after and excitement replaced her sadness. From the back seat on the way home, Zoe asked London if it hurt and London said "a little bit".  My girl was brave.