How We Lost a Tooth without the Tooth Fairy
A few months ago, my son informed me that his front tooth was loose. Ever the skeptic, I said, “Are you sure?” And as I pressed gently on this tooth, I was shocked to discover it WAS loose. Why was I so shocked? Well, he wasn’t even 6 yet, and, how could he possibly be loosing teeth when it feels like he just got them? Didn’t I just pour my love over him through sleepless nights of teething pain? And now, it’s on to the next stage already.
Parenting seems to have a constant forward momentum. We just master one developmental age and then, suddenly, it’s over, and we are starting from scratch again. It is very humbling.
In my house we tend to do things a bit unconventionally. We are still finding our footing when it comes to our beliefs and values and the way we’d like to help shape childhood in our family. After considering the concept of the tooth fairy, we decided against it. (Insert gasp here). That tradition didn’t fit into the idea of earthly magic and wonder that we’d like to cultivate. That being said, we very much believe in celebrating milestones in our own way.
A few weeks after the initial announcement of the loose tooth, my son called out from the living room, “Mumma! My tooth came out.” I ran in, and was so fortunate to witness that tender expression of pride and excitement. I held that little, tiny tooth in my hand, and felt the weight of that moment. My husband came running in to investigate and share in the commotion.
That teeny tooth was a big deal. I felt the pendulum swinging from childhood to youth. My first-born was heading towards something new. It was thrilling and ever so slightly bittersweet as well.
We came to the conclusion that there would be no secret, stealthy fairy in the night getting all the glory. We would share this moment together. We would be the revelers, finding a new home for that tooth, and our son would know exactly where it was because he would get to choose its final destination.
The result? As per Fynn’s request, the tooth is to be buried at Grandma and Grandpa’s. That night, a candlelit dinner and dessert was served and heartily enjoyed. We decided to give him a small gift to commemorate this rite of passage. My husband presented Fynn with a geode, which he got to chisel open, and wasn’t he quite surprised to find that the unassuming rock contained an incredibly sparkling, crystal world within? Now that’s my kind of magic.