Rites of Passage

I fancy myself as being the type of person who has always been mentally and emotionally prepared to greet my childrens' milestones with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. However, I was not prepared to encounter not one, but TWO significant steps to official grownuphood for David and Elizabeth within a period of four weeks. That's, like, 28 days in which to ride the way of two significant, if not necessarily life-changing, adventures for my kids.

First, there was the matter of David and his teeth. We always suspected that both kids would need to see an orthodontist sooner rather than later in their childhood years. And so it was the case that on May 8, 2012, David bravely reclined on the dental chair at the office of Dr. John Pearson in Corona, CA, opened his mouth, and observed (with no small amount of trepidation, poor sweetie) the dentist and technicians inserting an assortment of metallic thingies into his mouth.

From this 30-minute procedure emerged a changed man:

In my entire life, I don't think I ever met a single individual who would proclaim, without a moment's hesitation, that they absolutely love their braces. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you David Hastings, who has affirmed that his braces are "AWESOME." The pallet expander on the roof of his mouth? Not so much. But, already, we're noticing how beautifully his teeth are moving into position. He's going to be a knock-out when those things come off. Not that he's in a hurry for that, mind you.

Fast forward to June 3, and Elizabeth and I are at Kohl's department store, returning a dress that I realized I should have tried on before purchasing it, but at the time was quite confident that it would both look good and fit. (Again, on both counts, not so much.) Elizabeth and I roamed the store for a few minutes, and she stopped to admire a display of dangling, gaudy earrings adorned with all sorts of bobbles.

"Mommy, I want to get my ears pierced."

I had to ask her to repeat herself, which she did.

"I want my ears pierced and I want to wear THESE!" she declared, pointing at a particularly heavy pair of floral earring that, if worn on her earlobes, would stretch them to her ankles.

"You do? Are you sure?" I asked. I was a little taken aback, but in a good way. See, for a few years now, I've been asking Elizabeth if she'd ever have any interest in getting her ears pierced. And, up until this moment, her reply was always an adamant, "NO!" Which was fine. I've always determined that it would need to be her call, and she would determine when the time was right for her. My prompting, of course, has always been influenced by the fact that, when I was her age, I longed to get my ears pierced, and my parents put down an emphatic foot. No way. No how. Nuh-uh. That is, until, my beloved pediatrician, Dr. Nation, said, at one office visit during which time I lamented to him how neglected a child I was for not having parents who would allow me to get body piercings, "Oh, heck. I'll pierce them for you." Which, gentle reader, he did. To say my mom was in shock and my dad was pissed would be an understatement.

But I digress. So, I confirmed with Elizabeth that she was ready, and then asked, "well ... do you want to go do it now?" And she nodded. yes. I scooted us to our car before she changed her mind. I don't know who was more excited.

About 45 minutes later, Elizabeth and I were at Claire's in the Montclair Plaza, and she was proudly displaying a new pair of sparkly, pink sapphire studs in her dainty lobes, grinning and beaming (after a temporary bout of shock and a few tears after the first piercing).

Sometimes I am absolutely beside myself with joy and relief that I have the amazing gift of two kids who are healthy, bright, and eager to take on these adventures ... and that I get to go along for the ride.