Miss M Loses a Tooth

Today, Miss M lost her first tooth. I cried. It’s certainly a milestone when one’s firstborn loses that tooth and I’m sentimental anyway.

A few weeks ago, I had one of her homeschooling friends over for a play date, who bit into a piece of toast (Ezekiel low-sodium) and started bleeding and crying. Her tooth was loose. I made a big deal of it, called her mom and told Miss M that one day soon she, too, would lose her tooth. What a glorious day it would be!

Not less than a week later, Miss M was using her teeth to open her Silly Strawberry toothpaste when OUCH! Her own bloody, loose tooth.

On a side note, Miss M lied (unusual for her) about how this happened for a moment, despite me being right next to the bathroom. She said she hit her face on the wall. The brain surgeon was like, “Oh my gosh! She knocked her tooth out,” but I knew better. She had no marks on her face and I didn’t hear a major slam against the wall. For a smart guy…(just kidding, Honey).

Anyway, it was the same tooth (bottom-middle-left and I don’t know the tooth number for you dentist types) as her friend and – once the shock wore off – she was thrilled. Then she told me the truth with a, “Sorry, Mom. I thought you would have been mad that I opened the toothpaste with my teeth.” (I wouldn’t have.)

But what really pissed me off was today (only two days later) at the YMCA, the brain surgeon comes to trade with me because I’m taking this writing class while he’s around during his research time. Miss M kept asking when the tooth fairy would come.

I was occupied with BooBoo and L-man when all of the sudden, Miss M is jumping up and down, bloodied like Carrie on prom night (face and hands), screaming that daddy pulled her tooth.

And when I say “screaming,” I mean in that way only a 5-year-old girl can do. It was an odd scene. Now the tooth fairy would come.

I can’t describe how annoyed I was, but the brain surgeon knew with just one look at me. “She asked me to pull it,” he stammered sheepishly.

And indeed, she was bloodied, but joyful. “I did, Mommy. I said, ‘pull it’ and he did and it didn’t hurt at all!”

I should have just been happy, but the truth is, I had unfinished plans. I wanted to photograph her tooth and videotape her wiggling it. So what if it had been a couple days? Most kids wiggled for at least a week and it takes me time to get my act together, but I had plans.

I had a dream – and the brain surgeon shattered it.

And I wanted to put it under her pillow. But I had to buck up and smile for the sake of my bloody little girl. I got excited. I jumped up and down. I cleaned her up. I went to class.

When I came home, I wrote a note from the tooth fairy and covered it with glitter glue. I found a yellow feather (from an art kit she received and not very vegan, I suppose) and placed it with the note and a shiny quarter in a bag (Call me cheap, but I’m not the type to leave a twenty). Then, I went in and felt under her pillow for the tooth.

This turned out to be remarkably easy, as the brain surgeon had placed it in Tupperware. Tupperware???

(By the way, if you want Tupperware, get it by ordering it from my friend at colbyandbigo@yahoo.com. She's a SAHM and will tell you all about why Tupperware is safer plastic and about her favorite products.

Anyhow, my daughter – who figured out that the Easter Bunny does not exist and that some of the Disney Princesses at parties are “imposters” – was beyond thrilled that the tooth fairy came and then volunteered to do a tooth wiggling reenactment for our video camera.

Toodles!

Arm, Leg, Penis, Vagina

So, the L-man asked about his testicles for the first time yesterday. Specifically, he had just gotten out of the shower and asked (while checking out his discovery), “Mommy, is this the ball of my penis?” He said it kind of like, “Is this the ball for my bat?”

These are the moments where it is very hard to keep a straight face.

I said, yes, many people call them balls, but the technical term is “testicles” and there are two of them.

He looked confused. “Is the other one in here?” He referenced his scrotum. I explained that it was, he found it, looked happy and went about his day.

We try to stick to anatomical terms for body parts. We’re science people and I’m straightforward about sex anyway, but it really freaks some people out. You certainly can’t say the word “vagina” in mixed company.

I do it anyway. I'm crazy like that.

And my kids do because they have no idea it freaks people out. For safety reasons, we do explain what a private part is and why it is private and read them a book we like, but otherwise, we just talk about all body parts in a matter-of-fact way.

Once, Miss M announced, very loudly in a crowd, “Mommy, my vagina has an itch!” That drew some disapproving stares, but whatever. She had a problem and she was just telling her mom. I’m not easily ruffled.

Another time when she was three, she interrupted her yoga teacher and said, “Sometimes my baby brother gets poop all over his penis, but it’s okay, because my mom cleans it off when she changes him.”

The yoga teacher was luckily cool (as most yoga teachers are) and didn’t skip a beat. “Well, that’s very nice of your mom,” she said. “Now, let’s all sway like a tree.”

The brain surgeon and I had to work at coming up with a family policy on nudity. In his family of origin, nakedness was not the norm and they didn’t openly discuss things like puberty, periods and sex.

In my family, everything was open for discussion. Most of my childhood was spent in a single-mom household with just one sister (though I have many siblings) and we were always getting ready together. Nudity didn’t matter at all.

We didn’t want any of our kids to feel weird about being naked and we didn’t want nudity to be a big thing, but we also don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable or inappropriate, and we want to make sure our kids knew what is safe.

We talked and read and read and talked and finally came across some information on the topic that made sense: Let the kids tell you what’s comfortable, because most kids reach a point where they feel uncomfortable having their opposite-gender parent see them naked and also where they don’t want to see their opposite-gender parent naked either (although the timing can be different for these). This is usually later (or not at all) for same gendered parents.

So, we decided just to be laissez-faire about it all and see what happens.

We aren’t nudest types, but we aren’t uptight. In other words, we tend to be naked only as a function of changing clothes or for bathing, but we don’t all run for cover either.

So as the kids grow, when they say, “DAD!” and are embarrassed if they see him changing or when my son freaks out if I walk in the bathroom (or if I freak out – it goes both ways), then that is that.

I also LOVE how our pediatrician handles nudity and the genital exam with our children.

Once they are old enough to have an opinion, he explains that there are very few times when it is okay for an adult to look at or touch a child’s private parts (mom, dad, doctor). He then explains that the parents should be there and say its okay. But, he says, most importantly, the child needs to be okay with it. He asks their permission before any exam, which, when necessary, are brief and appropriate.

We also talk to the kids about keeping secrets with other adults and so on. But mostly, we’re just with our kids. To me, it’s the best way to keep them safe.

Lastly, if you’re feeling down, just shout “vagina!” It will change your mood. I promise.

Toodles!