The (no longer) missing tooth

Nothing says "I'm a big girl" quite like a gap-toothed grin.

It was with a squeal of delight Saturday that Sydney announced she'd reached this oh-so-important milestone in her journey to being big.

"MY TOOTH IS LOOSE!"

She was a blur of excited motion. Sydney ran into the room to show me how much she could wiggle one of her bottom teeth from side to side. Quite honestly, as loose as the tooth was, I'm amazed she hadn't noticed sooner. And then she was off again, running through the house in search of Jeff, pumping her fist in victory, "YES!" Minutes later, I could still hear her talking to herself, her voice filled with awe, "I have a loose tooth."

This moment. This accomplishment. It needed to be more than just savored now, it needed to be captured and remembered for all time. And Sydney knew just how to do it.

She grabbed her new diary and came into the office where I'd been working on the computer. But there was one small problem.

"Mom, if I tell you one of my secrets in my diary, will you help me right in it?" 

She wanted to write "I have a loose tooth", but needed help with the words that had more than one letter.

Note the smile in the above photo - all teeth were still present and accounted for. By yesterday, she was beyond impatient. Her fingers were pretty much constantly in her mouth, wiggling the tooth. She asked for snap peas and an apple for lunch. Anything to help further loosen it.

I promised corn on the cob for dinner. Which meant Sydney's favorite question, starting at about 1:30 in the afternoon, was, "How soon is dinner?"

In the end, she didn't need the corn. She took a couple bites, but discovered it hurt too much. Instead she took a bite into her chicken sandwich. I wasn't in the room at the time, but there was no mistaking when the big moment arrived. Victory squeal #2 rang through the house.

I rushed back to the kitchen.

No tooth.

She still had a mouthful of chicken, which Jeff instructed her to spit onto her plate. Using the prongs from her corn, I sifted through the food.

No tooth.

AJ, all-knowing and much more experienced in matters such as these, immediately figured out what had happened. "You must have swallowed it, Syd."

This had happened to AJ once, and he'd been devastated. Not Sydney. "That's okay. Can I write a note to to the tooth fairy?" She asked. "Madi swallowed a tooth once and she got two Littlest Pet Shops from the tooth fairy."

"You can write a note," I told her, "but don't get too excited that you'll get anything extra for swallowing your tooth. The tooth fairy has always just left a dollar for teeth at our house."

I made Sydney finish a few more bites of chicken, and then helped her get paper and pen for her note. I knew it would be a tedious process. I helped her spell "Dear". When she asked how to spell "tooth", I reminded her she'd just written the word in her diary the day before. She ran for the journal.

Knowing that I'd be blogging about this and would need pictures, I grabbed a rag to wash the remnants of supper from her face. It was when I stepped next to her that I suddenly felt a pain in my foot.

The missing tooth was no longer missing. It was now pressed into the bottom of my foot. How it landed on the floor will forever be a mystery.

Sydney quickly crumpled the note she'd started. It was no longer needed.

AJ helpfully supplied the tooth "case" we've used for his lost teeth. Sydney ran for her bedroom and positioned it under her pillow.

As discreetly as possible, I checked my wallet. No small bills. On to the Jeff's wallet. Success.

It's a good thing the kids go to daycare this morning, as opposed to having a babysitter come to our house. That way I get to be here when Sydney wakes and discovers the tooth fairy has paid her a visit.