Bling

The other day I got this earring holder:

I had one before but I gave it away as a gift to my cute sister-in-law, when the artist couldn't make hers in time for Christmas. But he made more, and the store called, and I am thrilled to have some order to my baubles again.

So I was admiring my collection of sparklies, and wishing that I could wear them again. You see, for as long as Garrett has been able to reach his hand out, he has been drawn to the sparkle of whatever is hanging next to my face, with the single goal of ripping said jewel off of my ear and having it for his next chew toy. He is a combination of the little creepy guy from Lord of The Rings (sorry...never could stay awake for those, and only read half of The Hobbit. It's on my to-do-list...really) and the crow, Jeremy, who became obsessed with Mrs. Brisby’s “sparkly” from The Secret of NIHM (one of my FAVORITE kid's movies)
I digress...so anyway- for the last nine months I have been pretty much "earring free". And that's hard for me because I AM an earring person. You know how they say he's either a "leg man" or a "boob man"? Well, I think that women are either "earring girls" or "necklace girls" or "ring girls" or "bracelet girls"...although I do have a friend who is such a jewelery-nut that it seems that just about every inch of her is covered in jewels at-all-times. She looks like one of those women from Africa, with the forty gold bands around her neck, stretching her to look like a giraffe. She even swims with all that goop on her. It would drive me nuts. So, I think that practicality, and a big melon have made me an earring person. The necklaces get yanked by kids, the bracelets...same thing. To me, I don't want to wear another ring if I am wearing my wedding ring, so that leaves earrings. And for me- the bigger the better. I want them big, and dangly, and sparkly, and a little weird. So, it's been hard to go without them for these past nine months. And there I was gazing at all of them, wondering how long it would be until I could don a pair of them every day. But before that thought left my head, this one popped in:

You will wear them when you are no longer holding Garrett.

Lump-in-throat.

Yeah, that day is coming. He is off and running everywhere. Bopping up and down to music, chasing the cat, chasing Shelby(who pretends to be a dog) and he laughs so hard as he chases her, that he practically topples over. He has the same stance as Dalton. He looks like a little cowboy who just stepped off his horse. So wherever he walks or runs, he looks a little like he is moseying...But thankfully, he still loves to be held. All I have to do is bend down and reach out with my open arms, and he comes moseying at the speed of light, towards me, to be swallowed up by me. And then he melts in to you...filling up the spaces in my clavicle, flowing in to my shoulders, his knees drawn up in to my belly...his face pressed against mine.

AND-I-DRINK-IT-IN.

It's like the "last call" at the bar. My last intoxicating baby. So I savor it.

And then he's off!...to chase the neighbor's dog, or knock over Dalton's Lego star ship, or pull the onions out from the bin under the oven. But even if just for a moment...it's precious.

And so the earrings can wait. The sparkle next to my face can be for another day...another time. They can live on that earring tree till the cows come home.

I'll take this jewel instead, for as long as I can. And when you see me wearing earrings again, don't be envious of my bling, but instead give me sympathy for the jewel I am no longer carrying.

(Garrett, age 11 months, wearing a fashionable shade of blackberry all over his face)