Seven years ago yesterday afternoon, on Friday the thirteenth and a full moon in October, I brought my first baby into this world. I can't even believe it's been so long. And I especially can't fathom how much she has grown this year: physically, intellectually, spiritually, and all the other -allys. I have been telling her for the past month that I decided she couldn't turn seven after all and she was going to have to stay six forever. (Since this is Bria we're talking about, she believed me and was very upset until I told her I had no way of actually doing this as much as I would have liked to.)
Anyway, she had a very delightful birthday, even though after her party she told me it wasn't fun enough. I'm sure she was just coming off a crazy sugar high and feeling the let down we all feel after eating two slices of birthday cake, three scoops of ice cream and a full bag of pinata candy.
My parents came down from up North and brought her new High School Musical bedding, among other things. And not just a bedspread. Pillows, a throw blanket, sheets and the works. Her party was High School Musical themed (if you look closely, the crown she is wearing, which she made for herself a week or so ago, is also HSM themed) and was actually very fun for her, upon further reflection and after eating some vegetables.
High School Musical is probably not what I will remember most about Bria's seventh birthday, however. Fun as it is, it isn't much different than every other day of Bria's life right now, so it just isn't very memorable. What I will remember is her biggest gift from us: Getting her ears pierced.
She has known for a couple months that we would let her do it when she turned seven. And since her cousin Emma, who is a year older, got to do it when she turned eight, they decided that they would do it together. We made plans to go to the salon, get pierced, and then go get ice cream. Bria simply could not contain her excitement on Friday morning, the day before her birthday, which was earring day.
Well, we got to the salon a tad late, because my mom wanted to come and she had just driven into town about 10 minutes before our appointment. So Emma had already chosen her earrings and was in the seat getting her ears marked when we arrived. Bria was still absolutely giddy with anticipation and eagerly chose her own studs and then watched Emma's get done.
And that's when my fears were confirmed (I was really afraid she wouldn't go through with it). Even though Emma did not cry, she didn't really act like it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her, either. Bria immediately turned green and decided she didn't want to get it done. I told her that was fine, that she didn't have to and we could go now. She burst into tears because she really wanted earrings. So, then, I explained to her that it really didn't hurt as bad as it looked (the guns really freaked her out) and Emma told her it was just a pinch that wasn't even as bad as the dentist (and Bria has done fabulously at the dentist this summer).
To make a very long story short, instead of longer as I tend to do, this scenario went on for a very long time. She decided to do it, got in the chair, but then lost her courage while they were marking her ears. But then she wouldn't leave. And then she'd get into the chair again (this time in my lap) and practically squeeze my hands off while they loaded the guns or re-marked her ears. All the time wailing and gnashing her teeth and deciding that, never mind, she wanted to wait until she was eight.
In the end, she did it. We were really going to leave, I told her this was it, if she said she wanted to do it she had to do it. And she really did squeeze my hands off when they did the actual piercing, but she did it. And I have never seen her so happy. Just another lesson about how the things that bring us the greatest satisfaction and joy often require doing something very hard first.
And then we went out for ice cream.
Happy Birthday Bria, I love you!