three for three

Carolyn lost her third tooth, tonight.



Following suit of the other two, it went down the pipe as my daughter ate a slice of watermelon. Once again, we have nothing to place under her pillow for the tooth fairy. And once again, the tooth fairy will need to make a gastrointestinal rescue, so that my children are not in any way, shape or form, compelled to sift through the contents of a potty and retrieve it on their own volition. Now please, keep in mind, I would never accuse my children of such a heinous act if I hadn't personally overheard their conversation where they were plotting such a "rescue mission" following the loss/ingestion of the first tooth.

William doesn't have any loose teeth of his own, so he is becoming increasingly frustrated that his sister won't give him a tooth for his collection. And at the rate we're going, I fully recognize that I need to quickly get over the squeamishness that comes from plucking a loose tooth out of my child's mouth if I ever hope to actually have a tooth to place under a pillow. But that of course begs the question of what exactly does one do with a child's tooth once it is retrieved from beneath a pillow?

Does the tooth fairy save them up and make a maraca?

Or, stuff them in a drawer next to a dried up umbilical cord stump?

Do people actually save their children's teeth? Is it possible that they lose all their cuteness once they fall out of a child's mouth? Because right now, despite the fact I don't want to physically extract one OUT of my child's mouth, I'm oddly attached to those little chompers and can't imagine just throwing them away with the trash.

Speaking of children's teeth...

We found a fantastic new pediatric dentist a few weeks ago and she gave to us these awesome little sand timers that we* now use whenever we brush the children's teeth to show exactly how long we need to brush (two minutes.) I've been thinking that a great Halloween idea might be to buy a 40-pack of these (that works out to $0.60/per) and hand them out next October along with some nice shiny red organic apples in lieu of Snickers bars.

(What do you think that says about me? Perhaps, "I am so practical and would absolutely LOVE to have my house egged!")



(I say "we" because I once read that an adult should brush their child's teeth until the child is capable of tying their own shoes. Since our children mostly wear slip-on Keens or Crocs, we might still be brushing their teeth when they're twelve unless I run out and buy them some sneakers.)

That's me in the mirror there.



Yes, that's a headlamp that I'm wearing. Why? Because it helps me to see my children's teeth better when I'm brushing them. And yes, I'm almost positively certain the reason I've been having increasing difficulty focusing on objects within a foot of my face has a little something to do with the fact I'll be 40 one month from yesterday.

Is it just me, or is time flying past?

Before I know it, I'll probably be swallowing my own teeth.