Thursday, July 7, 2011


I wanted to pierce her ears, but my husband left no room for discussion.

She's beautiful, precious, and has yet to be mistaken for a little boy, but it still melts my heart to see a sweet little miracle baby with tiny diamonds in her ears. But all her daddy can see is them getting ripped out on the playground, since he insists she will be some sort of tomboy princess.

Seriously; he has these demented visions of pink fishing poles and BB guns dancing in his head, followed by hopes and dreams of skinning and gutting a deer together, which absolutely can not be done while wearing earrings, apparently.

And though I've argued time and time again that the possibility of getting tiny studs ripped out of her ears in a fight with a boy on the playground is pretty much nonexistent for my sweet child, he just wouldn't back down.

So I had to compromise.

Without his knowledge, my tiny human and I made our way to a jewelry store where we finally found the perfect pair of magnetic earrings. Petite and sparkly, they fit perfectly on her delicate little pixy ears, and they looked like the real deal.

So real that I couldn't resist seeing daddy's reaction before the truth came out.

Finally home from a long day at work, he headed into the nursery where Scarlett Grace was taking her afternoon nap, and quickly spotted her new accessories before he even reached the crib.

He turned to me-on the verge of tears-and announced that I had pierced her ears; a statement that came out more like a question as he tried desperately to understand the madness before him. And no longer delighted with nor proud of my brilliant shenanigans due to the horror written all over his suddenly childlike face, I quickly told him that they were just magnetic and asked innocently if he liked them.

It's all fun and games until a grown man starts to cry.

He quickly flipped back her little earlobes to make sure I was telling the truth, then paced the room with his hands pressed firmly to his face, sighing deeply in attempt to calm himself down, and that's when I realized our daughter has no hope; as drama obviously rests on both sides of her genetic pool.

After the storm passed, he did admit that they were adorable. But too old he said, it looked like I was trying to make his baby grow up too fast. It seems as though the spaghetti straps on her rompers and the tiny black bikini her Auntie purchased for her was more than enough for him, and these little diamond earrings had pushed him over the edge, dangerously close to his first fatherly mental breakdown.

So we compromised.

She is allowed to wear them to church, sometimes, and I get to paint her nails.

I'm sure this is one of many compromises that will come our way as we attempt to raise up our little girl, because though we come from very similar families and identical religious backgrounds, I'm starting to find that the differences between what him and I perceive as the correct way to bring up our offspring in the way of clothing and accessories are widely vast.

And this is just the beginning.

But we survived, and Scarlett Grace is thriving despite our differences and drama. Just a few ounces short of thirteen pounds and almost twenty five inches long, our nine week old miracle is healthy and we are blessed.

I look at her, with her smooth, perfect skin, deeply dimpled cheek and enormous dark eyes, and I see everything I've ever dreamed of wrapped into one beautiful package. I see my husband, our families, our faith, a love song and a million answered prayers all tucked inside my very own tiny human.

I see joy born of sorrow.


And I see an eleven, where there should have been a number much higher, and she's a daily reminder to me that God is still in the business of performing miracles and faithfully granting our hearts desires in His will, His way, and His perfect timing.

We'll do our best to be sure that she is raised up knowing how amazing her story is, hearing endless truths of how many people prayed for Jesus to grow her in my belly, and teaching her daily to glorify God with everything she is.

And that's one thing we'll never compromise on.

“Compromise, if not the spice of life, is its solidity. It is what makes nations great and marriages happy.”