I didn't even have to look at the calendar. I knew today was the day. I knew because as I stumbled to the kitchen to pour my first cup of coffee, Brooke bounced in, informed me that she'd been up since "6 something", and asked, "Can we change my earrings now? Can we, can we, can we? Pleeeeeeease?"
Knowing myself as well as I do, I politely put her off until I'd finished my first cup of coffee. It was in every one's best interest. Before coffee is not the best time to attempt to use fine motor skills . . . especially on something so monumental as changing the 6 year old's earrings for the first time.
As soon as the last drop of coffee had touched my tongue, Brooke was in my face ready to go. I still maintain that 1 cup of coffee was not sufficient because she cried. She said taking the first one out hurt and absolutely, under no circumstances, wanted another earring in her ear.
At that point, being 1 cup of coffee short, I had no patience to list all the reasons why she really did want earrings in her ear. I just man-handled her. Cleaned the ear really well, and put the new earring in.
Then I focused my eyes on the second earring and realized that there were some crusties keeping me from slipping the post out easily. It's probably why the first one was a little more difficult than Brooke would have liked.
Well, it's her own fault. I tried to tell her that I needed a little more time to wake up before we changed earrings.
After the crusties were cleared away, the second earring was changed without a hitch.
We've come so far in such a short time. Six weeks ago, this was our little Brooke . . .
Because of reasons that we are no longer allowed to speak of, Mary TuTu did not get her ears pierced at the same time that Brooke had hers done. The phrase "chickened out" has been banned from our house. And, word to the wise, if you have twins, take the other one out of the store and walk around while the first one is wailing and gnashing her teeth. Then when the first one is smiling and so excited about the sparkles in her ears, put the second one in the chair.
For goodness sakes . . . don't let the second one watch the first one.
If you do, you'll have two freaking out, estrogen-filled girls on your hands and you will walk out of the store with only one set of pierced ears. And 4 days later, on a busy Saturday afternoon, you will find yourself back at the mall, fighting all the crazed teens, gearing up for round two.
And then you will have to explain to your 6 year old girls and your 10 year old son why the 50 year old man is getting his ears pierced. Because Saturday is the day when all the freaks go to the mall.
Just suffice it to say that Mary TuTu waited 4 days. So now, she has to wait 4 more days.