I ordered one of each of the new prints from the ARTshop POP-UP SALE to hang in our basement. And after a day like yesterday the TAKE A BREATH print is especially meaningful to me...
The girls wanted to get their ears pierced. ACTUALLY, just Pilot. She talked about it at length. WE talked about it. We role played it. We discussed the pain and the process and the entire A-Z of getting your ears pierced. We discussed the cost. The care. (My ears are pierced, but I rarely wear earrings.) We decided that a trip to the mall to watch other people get their ears pierced would be cool and Pilot could make the choice for herself.
At the last minute Penn tagged along.
After watching a handful of five year-olds get their ears pierced - Pilot decided completely against it. She's not the bravest kid I know. But Penn decided she was getting hers done. And she IS the bravest kid around. I argued with her. I argued with myself. I tried to persuade her. I tried to bribe her. She wouldn't budge. We watched a few other girls - YOUNGER and OLDER. We talked about it for one hour - the care, the process, the pain. I was certain she would change her mind, but when she didn't - Pilot decided that she wanted to have it done as well. AFTER Penn (of course).
So that brave little Penn jumped up on the chair, got her ears pierced and sat there in a moment of shock. (I had already decided internally that would be going home to sob. BECAUSE she's just a baby!) And then, that stubborn, headstrong, ridiculously cute baby of mine had an epic melt-down and demanded the earrings be taken out. RIGHT. NOW.
And I couldn't blame her. What ridiculous thing we do to our bodies! What was I thinking? I couldn't even bring myself to reason with her. I was ashamed. I know how uncomfortable it is and how annoying infections are. And also that it will pass and be barely a thought.... Here was my adorable baby screaming at me.
Actually, the entire store was staring at me. Who was this horrible mom making her kids get holes in their heads? That's how it felt. At the sound of the screams, Pilot promptly changed her mind and we left in a hurry. While Penn was distracted by running through the mall to find our car, she forgot about her ears.
Until we were home and Dan looked accusingly at me and scooped her up in those big, perfect daddy arms. SHE. WANTED. THEM. OUT. RIGHT. NOW.
I took them out. I'm pretty sure that proper-parenting says that I should have convinced her to get through the first crappy week with them or talked about the lesson. Highlighted the action/consequence idea. But, I didn't have any fight left and I wanted to cry right along with her. I was just as happy to let the $37 holes grow in and never speak of this strange tale of babies growing up mixed with bad mothering.
TAKE. A. BREATH.
(Maybe I'll order two of that poster.)
Today: I have a painting to finish this week. ACTUALLY, I want to finish three, but who is counting? Polar bears, polar bears, polar bears. I need to nail down some details and delegate some tasks. I'm fulfilling ARTshop POP-UP SALE orders (use discount code: SPRINGFEVER for 40% off prints and a steal of a deal on posters!) and trying to figure out why my liver suddenly doesn't like the meds I'm on. Hello Monday! Let's do this.