Toothless in a Puff Patch
The tooth fairy visited our house last night on a critical mission to claim a poor, broken little baby tooth – oh, and thanks to Rise of the Guardians for giving us a visual on that, as well as plausible reasons for why the tooth fairy is sometimes tardy.
The whole kids-losing-teeth thing is a fairly standard part of childhood for most people, but there are certain Puff family members, not naming names, who lean toward the drama side of things.
For example, no one is allowed to show Mr. Puff a wiggling tooth, or a recently removed, still bloody bicuspid. And, while Quokka rips her loose teeth out with gleeful abandon, Athena has always been on the more restrained side. We've had instances of teeth hanging by a thread, with jagged roots cutting her gums to bits, and Athena begging us to yank it out, but if any of us made a move toward touching the tooth there would be shrieking. I was honestly afraid someone was going to call the cops on us – it sounded like she was being tortured and we hadn't even touched the tooth yet.
This level of, um, intensity dictated that we be very cautious about offering to assist Athena with a loose tooth. Meanwhile, Quokka's dropping teeth like a great white shark, racking up the tooth fairy visits, and crowing about her tooth pulling badassery with every bloody Chiclet she rips out of her mouth. Mr. Puff is in the corner with his head between his knees repeatedly asking, “are you sure it was a baby tooth?!?!?!”
Then, one day I walked in on this scene:
There was no screaming from the other room, or weeping, pleading or begging for help. So I let them have at it. They emerged 20 minutes later, once again clothed (mostly), with the tooth held triumphantly aloft. WIN!
This varied history of tooth drama is why I was thrilled on Saturday when Athena managed to yank out a baby tooth all on her own, without even crying. It was awesome. She gave herself a pep talk, wiggled it a lot to loosen it the rest of the way, and yanked that puppy out. Much celebration and high-fiving ensued. Then…we looked close at the tiny, tiny, little tooth and noticed that part of it appeared to be missing. EEEeeep!
Checked her mouth, and sure enough, the front rim of the tooth is still stuck in her gums. I'm normally pretty solid with kid injuries, tooth pulling, and all of the other grotesque features of parenting, but I've got a few of the heebie-jeebies about this one. Poor kid! The adult tooth has pushed down in front of that baby tooth instead of pushing straight down and pushing it out. The rim of the baby Chiclet is stuck right behind the adult tooth. Kinda makes me have pains in my knees.
What's the freaking chance that poor Athena would be the one to have this happen? She started to crumple up on me when I confirmed that yes, indeed, there's still some tooth stuck in there. I reassured her that we'd call the dentist on Monday, and she took a couple of deep breaths and smoothed herself back out.
I was so proud of Athena’s courage in pulling the tooth herself, but even more so about the self control and guts it took to calm herself down and not freak out about the broken little baby tooth. She took an important step forward in life, managing herself and her reaction so incredibly well. Plus, she had an awesome story to tell everyone over the weekend.
My little kick-ass tooth warrior won another of those small personal battles that define a childhood, essential signposts on the path each of us takes toward becoming an adult.
*Of course, in the middle of all of this we had to spend quality time convincing Badger that it is NOT yet time for her Chiclet teeth to come out and she needs them for a few more years…
We put it in a fancy box, and stowed it safely under her single pillow (you know, if you have too many pillows in your bed sometimes the tooth fairy can’t find the right one), and Athena added a note explaining that while the tooth had broken and part of it was missing, at least that made it cuter and smaller for the fairies to carry away. And they did, leaving her a couple of extra quarters for the poor, broken little baby tooth and her victory.
The whole kids-losing-teeth thing is a fairly standard part of childhood for most people, but there are certain Puff family members, not naming names, who lean toward the drama side of things.
 |
| Athena is NOT amused |
This level of, um, intensity dictated that we be very cautious about offering to assist Athena with a loose tooth. Meanwhile, Quokka's dropping teeth like a great white shark, racking up the tooth fairy visits, and crowing about her tooth pulling badassery with every bloody Chiclet she rips out of her mouth. Mr. Puff is in the corner with his head between his knees repeatedly asking, “are you sure it was a baby tooth?!?!?!”
Then, one day I walked in on this scene:
“Whoa, okay, what is going on here? Quokka, get OFF of your sister!”
Quokka glances over from where she is sitting astride her little sister, “I’m not hurting her. I’m helping pull her loose tooth.”
Vigorous nodding from Athena who is flat on her back on the floor with her big sister on top of her, “She iths mom. Ith's really loosth!”
“Ooookaaay. Soooo, why are you both naked?”
Quokka rolls her eyes. “So we don’t get blood on our clothes, of course.”
“Oh, of course. Well, okay then, carry on I guess – call if you need help.” And I backed away.
There was no screaming from the other room, or weeping, pleading or begging for help. So I let them have at it. They emerged 20 minutes later, once again clothed (mostly), with the tooth held triumphantly aloft. WIN!
This varied history of tooth drama is why I was thrilled on Saturday when Athena managed to yank out a baby tooth all on her own, without even crying. It was awesome. She gave herself a pep talk, wiggled it a lot to loosen it the rest of the way, and yanked that puppy out. Much celebration and high-fiving ensued. Then…we looked close at the tiny, tiny, little tooth and noticed that part of it appeared to be missing. EEEeeep!
Checked her mouth, and sure enough, the front rim of the tooth is still stuck in her gums. I'm normally pretty solid with kid injuries, tooth pulling, and all of the other grotesque features of parenting, but I've got a few of the heebie-jeebies about this one. Poor kid! The adult tooth has pushed down in front of that baby tooth instead of pushing straight down and pushing it out. The rim of the baby Chiclet is stuck right behind the adult tooth. Kinda makes me have pains in my knees.
What's the freaking chance that poor Athena would be the one to have this happen? She started to crumple up on me when I confirmed that yes, indeed, there's still some tooth stuck in there. I reassured her that we'd call the dentist on Monday, and she took a couple of deep breaths and smoothed herself back out.
I was so proud of Athena’s courage in pulling the tooth herself, but even more so about the self control and guts it took to calm herself down and not freak out about the broken little baby tooth. She took an important step forward in life, managing herself and her reaction so incredibly well. Plus, she had an awesome story to tell everyone over the weekend.
 |
| Smiling, and down one more baby tooth! |
*Of course, in the middle of all of this we had to spend quality time convincing Badger that it is NOT yet time for her Chiclet teeth to come out and she needs them for a few more years…
We put it in a fancy box, and stowed it safely under her single pillow (you know, if you have too many pillows in your bed sometimes the tooth fairy can’t find the right one), and Athena added a note explaining that while the tooth had broken and part of it was missing, at least that made it cuter and smaller for the fairies to carry away. And they did, leaving her a couple of extra quarters for the poor, broken little baby tooth and her victory.
