The Tooth Fairy made her first call to Team Smith this month. Your wiggly tooth was getting wigglier and wigglier - the point that you could literally pull it straight down and it touched your gums. Not the classiest or most appetizing party trick, but it was still pretty impressive. You wanted me to try to pull it out, so I tried. But I couldn't. And I learned something. I will NOT be one of those moms who pull teeth. It made me feel sick and queasy and disgusting. I'll clean up vomit all day as long as I don't have to pull a loose tooth.
I finally told you that if you just pinched the tooth and twisted it a bit, it would probably fall out. You grabbed the tooth, twisted, and all of a sudden there was an itty bitty tooth in your hand. You immediately started laughing and crying and couldn't BELIEVE that just happened. You had a death grip on your tooth as I cleaned up the (minuscule amount of) blood, then you gave it to me to investigate. (Because that's what mommas do ... they get to be on the receiving end of a small bloody chunk of enamel). I had forgotten how small baby teeth are. It didn't look that small in your mouth, but it looked comically small in my hand.
The Tooth Fairy was pretty sleepy that night, but she managed to remember to put $5 (and a Post-It with a smiley face on it) in your tooth pillow before going to bed. You were one happy kid the next morning. I know it's only one tooth - and it's a bottom one at that, so it doesn't even show much when you smile, but you look so different now! And if you say certain ends-in-an-S words, you whistle ever so slightly. I love, love, love it.
In other news, you came to me one night with tears in your eyes and a library book in your hands. You had only been in bed for 10 minutes so I knew it couldn't have been from a bad dream. You held up the book and told me that you had forgotten it was a library book and had written in the book to solve a little maze. You looked absolutely heartbroken. I tried to put on my most sympathetic face, but it was tough. Because on the inside? I was jumping up and down, cheering you on and celebrating your honesty. You were worried I'd be mad and worried the librarian would be mad. I reassured you that I wasn't mad, that I cared way more about you being honest than you writing in a library book. I told you that we'd tell the librarian what happened and I would offer to pay for the book. Again, you looked heartbroken that we might have to buy the book. I said that I didn't mind at all - it was a Boxcar Children book. We like them. It'd be A-OK if we added another one to our collection. A few days later we took the book back to the library to explain what happened. The librarian was so kind and complimented your honesty. He told you not to worry, that you weren't in trouble, that the book was just fine.
I can't put into words how proud of you I am that you told me about the book. You didn't have to. You could have closed the book, pulled up the covers, and gone to sleep. I would have been none the wiser. But you told me. You listened to that still, small voice that told you to do the right thing. I would have paid any price for that book if the library had wanted me to. Because you being honest is priceless. And in case you were wondering, you did a great job on the maze.
Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Natalie
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Headlines for March 1, 2015:
- Do Obama and Netanyahu Really Have the Same Goal on Iran?
- Officials: Mom Knew Her Son Was 'Jihadi John'
- Like Magic, New Company Delivers Anything You Wish For
- Toss the Cords! IKEA Furniture Will Charge Devices
- 'SNL' Draws Criticism Over Dakota Johnson ISIS Sketch
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