The Tooth Fairy and Other Stories from the Loss of Babyhood

The moment I've been dreading for 5 years is just about here.  I knew it would happen eventually, but I don't think I've ever really been prepared for it.  Several of my blog and Facebook friends have reported it happening in their households with their 5-year olds, and I just kept thinking, not my 5-year old, not my baby... 

The loss of babyhood.

The loss of teeth.

Oh, how I love those sweet little teeth of hers, small, white, slightly crowded.  They hadn't been delayed by all that much, her first one making its appearance at 11 months, and the rest to follow, all in correct order, by the time she was 2.  It was all a lot of no-muss-no-fuss for her, and as parents of only one child, we were fortunate to have one that never teethed.  Yes, be jealous if you want, but this child showed absolutely no discomfort, no fevers, no crankiness, no nothing at the emergence of her baby teeth.  And I learned to stop sticking my fingers in her mouth to feel for them pretty darn quick.

In the last few days (or has it been weeks?  who can tell?) I've noticed that her bottom teeth have been looking a little more crooked than usual.  My imagination?  Perhaps...  But there was just something...different.  Couldn't put my finger on it.

Then, with a realization like being hit by a Mack truck, it came to me.

Wiggle one...

And wiggle I did.  And I was immediately rewarded (?) with movement.  Not just a little movement, the darn thing teetered like a weeble wobble (anyone remember those?) under my finger.  Nearly crying, but still overwhelmed with excitement, I explained to her what it meant, and marched her into the other room to show Daddy, which she did with great pride. 

Then, with yet another realization, perhaps this one more like a bolt of lightning, I was struck with another thought...

Maybe they're BOTH loose!

And so they were.  Omg, my girlie is about to lose not one, but TWO teeth!  The bottom front two, at that.  And I'm not entirely sure that she didn't already lose one or two that flanked those, actually...there looks to be a bit more space in that mouth, but it could be that the movement of these two has created that space naturally.

Knowing how Samantha feels about change, such as wearing band aids, temporary tattoos, facepaint, etc., I panicked to think that she would absolutely freak out at the loss of a tooth.  Or two.

But explaining some things to Samantha is often easier, thanks to some of the cartoons she watches.  She's seen the Tooth Fairy come to Peppa Pig, Max & Ruby, and Little Bill, to name a few, and the thoughts that a) she was a big girl to lose her teeth and have new teeth grow back and b) the Tooth Fairy would be paying her a visit soon to leave money under her pillow, excited her, and she is now only too happy to tell everyone about it!

Whew!

And is it so wrong that I'm completely, hopelessly, unbearably grossed out by it?  I touch them because I have to in order to brush them, ever. so. gently.  But otherwise, it kinda makes my stomach turn to knots when I see/feel them move.  Poop I can handle, the occasional scraped knee I can handle.  Heck, I can even work with a splinter, and vomit's no big deal.  But give me a wiggly tooth, and I get weak at the knees...