Today, Eva and I were driving to an appointment. As we came down the busy street by our house, Eva said, "Too fast, Mama. You're going too fast." I checked my speedometer and was going the speed limit. "Slow down, Mama. Slow down." I paused while we talked; slowed some.
A few blocks later we came to a lighted intersection, our green light. I swear my front wheels were on the crosswalk when a car from the other direction quickly turned left in front of me. I slammed on the breaks to miss it. Eva and I were alright, though rattled.
She whimpered a bit in her car seat behind me and said quietly, "Slow down, Mama." The conversation gave me chills. "Thank you for reminding Mama to be safe, Little Bear." She smiled, relieved.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
No really. They're missing. We don't know where they went.
Eva lost her first tooth the other day while at summer camp. It was super wiggly but IN when I dropped her off and was OUT when I picked her up. She didn't know it was gone and neither did the teachers. I'm assuming it came out with a bite of sandwich and ended up in her belly with her lunch...until it comes out the other end. I'm not going to "look for it" but if it shows up readily...well, I don't think I'll wash it off and keep it anyway. The idea of keeping her discarded little fangs grosses me out a bit. So to keep one that traveled through her digestive tract...*shudder*. No thank you. Besides, the Tooth Fairy already came and left her a dollar in her little box under her pillow. It's not required, you know, to present said fallen-out tooth in order to receive the prize. The Tooth Fairy knows she lost her tooth. The Tooth Fairy knows everything, like Santa Claus or a mother-in-law.
So I moped around the other day, feeling bummed about not having her first tooth (her FIRST TOOTH, dammit!) and collected sympathetic outrage from other mommies. I ripped weeds out of the soil by the handful and allowed myself to feel annoyed; to feel that *ping* in my chest that my girl keeps getting more grown up.
The next day, I took Eva to summer camp and talked to the teachers again. They were (rightfully) sympathetic for my loss as a mommy. I warned them, "The tooth right next to the gap is REALLY loose and will probably come out today. I tried to pull it this morning. Keep an eye out". One teacher, a mother of a young girl who'd recently lost her first couple teeth, was especially determined to catch this loose tooth.
A few hours later, I came to pick Eva up. She ran across the yard to me grinning, "My mommy's here! That's MY mmmoommyyyy!" Hug hug, yeah, yeah, yeah. I pulled her bottom lip down. The second tooth was gone. Crap! I turned to one of the teachers, "She lost another tooth?" Blank stare. The above-mentioned sympathetic teacher came over and exclaimed, "She lost it?! I kept looking and she had it! I sat with her at lunch and checked after almost every bite! It was there when she went out to play! I don't know how this could have happened. I'm so sorry!" Well, thanks, lady. Sorry helps as does the obvious effort she put in to make sure I got that tooth. Alas.
It's probably out in the yard, mixed in with all the tiny pieces of gravel and dirt and tree bits. Maybe it's in the chicken coop. Whatever. The Tooth Fairy will still come. She knows all; maybe she knows where these two teeth disappeared to.
P.S. We've been talking about this whole Tooth Fairy story as a family, preparing Eva for what to do and what happens. She repeats, "My tooth comes out and I give to Mommy and Daddy! Then in the box, the Tooffairy comes when I sleep and get MONIES! Put in my pig bank." Ta da! I asked her yesterday what she wanted to spend her money on. She said "Put in my pig bank. We go to Farmer's Market? With Mommy and Daddy? I give it to violin, singing man, oooh, big bass!" (She wants to give it to one of the buskers at the market. How cool is that?) I love my girl.