I totally cried.
As I climbed into the front seat of the van and out of the cool spring morning rain, my daughter exclaimed "Mom! My tooth is loose! It's really wiggly!" I turned the key in the ignition and sighed, wearily exclaiming with not near the same vigor, "Really? Wow, that's great."
See, she's said this before. In fact, she's said it about one million times. Ever since her older friends started dropping teeth she's been longing for the day her mouth would catch up to all the other gaping toothless grins of young adolescents. Yearned for it, wished for it out loud and definitely to herself. I guess before boobs, it's teeth.
As she rounds the corner on the last month before she turns six, I expected that yes, soon enough we would be joining the ranks in doling out toothfairy money under her pillow. And I wonder, what is the going rate? I had better find this out.
But Alas, every time she discovers a potential tooth for the losing, I check it and no... "Honey, I'm sorry. You're just not there yet." It was beginning to become an issue. Apparently some of her friends in school have lost all their teeth. They actually have no teeth at all. "How do they eat?" I ask. "With their tongues." She answers, certainly and even with a hint of envy.
So this morning started like no other, with the hustle and the bustle and the bundling and the rushing and we rounded the corner to her school.
"Mom, really - it's lose." She insisted.
I sighed again as I jumped out of the van, the coffee yet warming my bones. I opened her door and gave her a long, steady look.
"Let me see." I said and she opened her mouth. As soon as I touched the tooth I knew. And in that very moment I realized that she was growing so big that her body was now rejecting the pieces of her that were considered "baby". Her teeth were falling out. Preparing for the teeth that would get her through the rest of her life. Leaving behind the teeth that tried pureed carrots for the very first time. The teeth that kept us awake all of those nights as they made their way through her gums. The teeth that gnawed on toys and knuckles and to my horror, grocery cart handles.The lump in my throat grew and my eyes grew wet. She saw, she heard me choke out her name, she felt what I felt. Frankie burst into tears, two minutes before the morning bell, and I grabbed her and hugged her and asked her why she was crying.
"I'm crying because I'm so happy Mom."
And so it goes. I kiss my baby girl goodbye and watch her go bouncing into school and I think that even though I am losing her teeth, I am gaining so much along the way.
