My wife and I were looking at our daughter's ears today and thinking how cute it would look if she had earrings. But, ultimately we knew that we would just be talking about it and not actually getting her ears pierced. While it would look cute, we can't imagine how it would feel for her to have holes put in her head, without a warning before hand and without giving her the choice to decide if she wanted more holes in her head (yes I know the holes are in the ears and not "in the head" but the ears are attached to the head and thus a fixture of her head and as such piercing her ears would be adding holes to her head).
Can you imagine what it would be like to be an infant getting your ears pierced? There you are minding your own business, seeing the pretty lights of the mall, a nice friendly lady (or guy, no judgments) smiles at you and plays with your ear, and the next thing you know it feels like your entire ear is being ripped off, and all the while Mommy and/or Daddy are just there smiling at you telling you how pretty you are. It must be torture for them.So, anyway, we're not going to do that to our little squirt. So when she gets old enough and asks us if she can get her ears pierced and we explain what happens and she makes her own informed and intelligent decision to do it, we will happily take her to add a couple of extra holes. And if/when that time comes, I will be proud of her and think her very brave. After all, I've never had extra holes added to my head, although I did help add a couple extra ones to my sister's head.
Educational note: Ski poles are not meant to be used as javelins in training for the 2000 Summer Olympics (or any other Olympic year). And if you insist on using them as such, please make sure that pets and/or siblings are no where near even if you have amazing aim (because let's face it gale force winds can come up out of nowhere, and only last for a second, blowing your throw completely off course). Oh yeah, that includes making sure that the other side of the house is clear when attempting your tall and long shots. True story; don't believe me ask my parents. I would recommend asking my sister but her memory of the event may not be so good, because of the extra hole.But, in thinking about piercings, when I was a kid it was pretty popular for young men (as we preferred to call ourselves at the tender age of 11/12/13 ish) to have them. In fact, I even had a lot of peer pressure to have one too. So, I'm surprised I never got one, because the pressure was intense. However, I never lost my resolve not to, because of my principles partly, and mostly because I was afraid to. But still, the pressure was mounting. You know those blood pressure cuffs at the store? I once stuck one of those almost bulk size shampoo bottles in one, with the cap off, and watched it slowly get squirted due to all the pressure. I felt like I was going to explode like the shampoo bottle due to the pressure to add an extra hole to my head.
However, I'm not sure I can call it peer pressure. Because it wasn't my friends who tried to talk me into getting my ear pierced. It was my mother. That's right, my very own pastor mother wanted her son to get one of his ears pierced. I remember having the conversation multiple times with her. Sometimes it started off with all of us around the table, and as soon as mom would mention it and start talking about how cool it was Dad would always find an excuse to get up and leave, often with an accompanying shake of the head and/or rolling of the eyes (that's right, my Dad can multi-task, probably where I got it from.
Yet no matter how much she tried to talk me into it, I refused to pierce my ear, because I didn't want to. I actually got pretty annoyed about her sometimes frequent asking, and I couldn't figure out why she wanted me to do it so bad. I also knew part of the reason I wouldn't do it was because I didn't want to risk being confused for a female of the species any more often than I already was. I hated the term "Have a nice day ma'am and thanks for shopping with us" - and why, just because I was buying Suave Strawberry Essences shampoo? (Also not a joke, but if it was, it would be funny, whereas now it may be funny because its true)But today, as I was thinking about the pressure she placed on me to get an earring, I can't help but wonder if maybe she had completely altruistic (that's right folks I own a dictionary) reasons for asking. Maybe, she was preparing me for the inevitable peer pressure I would face later on in life. Maybe she believed that if I could say no to my mom, which wasn't always easy for this mama's boy to do, then I'd be okay with saying no to my friends or the creepy people who hung around outside with big pupils and never seemed to know which day of the week it was and thought the word poop was hilarious.
Maybe the reason why this almost in his late twenties man has never swallowed a drop of alcohol nor purposely inhaled smoke for fun or used any other sort of drug is because my Mom taught me what peer pressure was and how to deal with it from a younger age. I learned with her to not let others coerce me into doing things I don't want to do which may have interpreted into not letting others coerce me into something I knew was wrong. Of course I give the glory for that testimony ultimately over to God for the Jiminy Cricket like way in which the Spirit guided me as a young man, but I believe my Mother helped as well.
So, did my mom really desire for her son to be a young man with one ear pierced in an attempt at being cool? An unnecessary attempt by the way, because I had my awesome Star Wars tie dye shirts to show my coolness. Or, was my mom successfully teaching me how to handle peer pressure, thus giving me an important tool for life and helping me as a parent now have an idea about how to teach my kids about it when the time is right for them? The world may never know. Either way, I'm appreciative.BLT says......look back on some of the things your parents did that exasperated you, perhaps they were teaching you something valuable. AND don't use a ski pole as a javelin.
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