LaLa lost a tooth. The one that she had been wiggling and playing with all day. It’s not the first one… but so far it’s definitely the most traumatic.
Lost it while she was in the bathtub. I’m downstairs doing the dishes, water running and I think, “Do I hear something?” “Is that a child crying?” “What IS that noise?” Water off. Listen. Wailing. Bloody murder screaming. I race up the stairs fearing a broken leg on the slippery tile floor. I get to the bathroom to see a naked child screaming… standing up (no broken leg), screaming. “What is it!?” I yell over the screaming. “What happened?!” Incoherent screaming ensues as she explains that her tooth has come out and blood is apparently gushing out of the wound.
I’m a girl. I CAN be dramatic if the need arises but Lord help me, that child has got Golden Globe written all over her. It was all I could do to hold myself together. It was one of the most precious things that I have ever experienced as a parent.
Upon hearing all of the screaming and feet running up the stairs LaLa’s dad comes flying into the room wondering what on earth is going on. The Incoherent Screaming Replay starts. I get her a towel and the three of us hug and sit on the ottoman. This is going to take a while. Farmboy assures her that all will be fine and goes downstairs to continue his game with the Bean. I get the privilege and honor of sitting there with my daughter listening to her raw fears and I am struck with her tender heart. The beauty. I hear wails of how that tooth will be missed. It will be so alone. The other teeth left behind won’t know where it has gone. The tears, so many, so big. Eyes so swollen and red. Oh, that the tooth never should have been loose. Oh, that it never should have come out. Now this is the same child that at dinner was determined to pull it out in front of us at the dinner table. Being the proper parents that we are… we told her she couldn’t do that. She would have to wait until after dinner and go into the bathroom. I guess, truth be told, we didn’t think she’d actually do it.
She cried because she had lost something God had given her. She cried because her other teeth would miss the lost one. She cried because she wasn’t ready. I cried inside because I wasn’t ready either. For any of it. She would talk and then lean into me and cry until all of the tears were out… for both of us. I reveled in that moment. Loving and embracing the beauty of it. I wanted to run and get it down on paper as soon as I could because my memory is terrible and I feared not recalling all of it.
How do you take a picture of a Kodak moment without a camera? Words. Girls. Little girls. Big tears. Red eyes. Despair is despair. Is there a measure to a child? What do they know of earthquakes, oil spills, world hunger and AIDS? Missing. She feared the other teeth would miss not getting to say good-bye to this one. Her teeth didn’t feel like her teeth anymore. She asked if she would have to lose other things… like her Blankie. Hell no! Of course not! I still have my Henry. The little teeth had to leave to make room for the bigger ones, that’s all. She was right on schedule. She is perfect. Just the way she was expertly designed.
Eventually the hugs, tears and sobs slowed and I suggested pajamas and a Toot and Puddle book wherein their little cousin Opal loses her tooth. LaLa was thrilled. A few tears fell while getting ready for bed. After showing her brother the hole and expressing her sadness over her different smile he reassured her that “her smile was always beautiful no matter what because SHE was beautiful”. Oh, how you make me proud tonight Big Brother.
So we piled up in the bed with her lovingly decorated envelope for the tooth fairy. Covered with stickers- her best, most favorite ones we tucked the envelope under the pillow and I proceeded to tell the story inserting “Tooth” for Toot and “Toot Fairy” for the “Tooth Fairy”. She was hysterical by the time the story was over. A precious night…had to write about it. Now, where is my glitter and where are my wings. ; )
Do you have any tooth fairy magic? Please share!
Michelle
4 Comments so far
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Oh, I loved reading this. And remembering. I must say, though, at 13 the box of old teeth is a bit grisly to look at!
By Tricia on 08.29.10 11:42 pm | Permalink
beautiful story! loved it!
By Kara on 09.01.10 6:34 pm | Permalink
Thanks Kara!
By michelle on 09.10.10 1:36 pm | Permalink
Tricia- I’m glad it took you for a stroll down memory lane. It was fun to write. Hmm. I bet those teeth are a bit grisly to see. Thank you for posting a comment!
By michelle on 09.10.10 1:38 pm | Permalink
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