Dear 14 yr. old Leila

I took these pictures of an uncooperative, but playful, almost 1 yr. old you. You had fun but didn't pose at all how I directed you to. You're future as a model is highly doubtful. And besides, your beautiful baby fat would not be appreciated in all it's pinch-able deliciousness.





Tutu. Check.
Glittery butterfly wings. Check.
Flower and headband. Check.
Put headband back on 76 times. Check.

What was missing?

Earrings. Little studs of sparkle glistening from your ear lobes.

Yes, by 14 yrs. old, you have realized that your older sisters have pierced ears, and have had them since infancy while you do not. Now you are faced with the choice of continuing a non-earring existence, or subject yourself to the pain of getting them pierced in your mature, conscience state.

Before you come to the conclusion that as the 3rd child, I loved you less, let me explain.

I also am the third born in my family and have been careful to take just as many if not more pictures of you. Decorated your room all pretty frilly just like I had with Maddie's. {Eden never got her own room!} Every once in a great while, I promise to put you in an outfit not worn (ie. worn out) by your sisters. But even with the best of intentions, I have yet to get your life insurance set up (you can just bum off your sister when it's time for you to go to college, k?) and um...well.. I don't give you a bath half as often as your sisters. But you don't stink, usually. Other than that, you've all been treated equally.

But with the earrings.... sigh. Mostly, I've just turned in to a big ol' bucket of smoosh and don't want to make you cry. Your older sisters cried less than a few minutes but still, I feel differently about now than I did then. Back then, beauty is pain was my motto. ☺ But now I feel like I might as well be binding your feet or some other cruel custom. Even yesterday, in the grocery store, a lady was pushing her wailing newborn around, not seeming to mind his screams. A few more minutes of it and I was about to go put his binky in for her. With more children, come grayy hairs, cavities, bigger feet, saggy all sorts of parts, and a backbone made of jello when it comes to crying babies.

But after looking at these pictures and foreseeing an irritated teenager in my future, I stiffened my jello spine and took you to the mall today. The lady working there didn't win my confidence. I still was going to go ahead and do it. I started to fill out the form, while you goo-ed and ga-ed from the stroller, no doubt looking forward to pretty silver studs in your ears. Or maybe not...

But then the lady said she was the only one working at the moment and so we wouldn't be able to do both ears at the same time. So I wadded up the form, snatched my credit card back, grabbed the stroller and ran out of the mall.

So that's why your ears aren't pierced. Don't hate me.

Love,