Yesterday Munchkin lost her second tooth! It had been wobbly for the past week or so and it was starting to bother her and get in the way of everyday things like brushing her teeth and, more importantly, eating. She was petrified at the thought of swallowing it and was breaking down in tears every few hours when the thought of that happening made its way back into her tiny head. The Man was on the other island till late yesterday afternoon so Munchkin and I played volleyball in the living room with a balloon, chatted a lot and managed to make it through dinner without mentioning the tooth.
Then the crying started again. We discussed the pros and cons of pulling out the tooth/leaving it in with the risk of it being swallowed. I assured her that the tooth fairy would still pay her a visit, even if she happened to swallow the tooth. I also assured her that whatever she decided to do, it wouldn’t hurt (all the while trying to control fits of hyperventilation…I’m not good with teeth and blood). Then, out of the blue, while I was in the middle of the argument for pulling out the tooth herself (she wanted my approval to go ahead with it even though she was really scared), she pulled the tooth. It didn’t come out and the wailing started again…only for it to appear on her tongue mid-scream. Aahhh the relief! And the pride! She was so brave to pull it out herself. I probably sound like a sickeningly soppy mother who thinks her child is the best. Well, I do think she’s a remarkable person, if not the best at everything. What makes me so proud, though, is knowing she had the courage to overcome her fear (and there was a lot of that) and take a risk. I used to take risks often, I lived for a challenge. Now I’m the opposite of the person I used to be and the last thing I want is for my daughter to grow up ‘playing it safe’. From the looks of it, I’ve nothing to worry about!