Tales From the Crib

Losing baby teeth were a part and parcel of one's life - a symbol of growing up, and it is the tooth-fairy that makes this otherwise dreaded and painful process an exciting one - something to look forward to. ~ Mansi Maheshwari

Yesterday morning, my daughter smiled at me when she woke up -- and one of her two front teeth was missing. Those teeth have been loose for months, but I guess it took being popped in the mouth by her cousin at Christmas to finally make it happen.

She said she was a little concerned, though, because the tooth had come out after she went to bed, but before she went to sleep and the tooth fairy didn't come. I didn't tell her it was because the tooth fairy was comatose in the bedroom next door, but I did say that she was probably tired from Christmas like everyone else.

Last night, the tooth fairy managed to stay up until nine o'clock and add that newest lost tooth to her collection.

Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven. ~ Tryon Edwards

Shortly before Christmas, I told my daughter I would arrange an "art center" for her in the basement where she could go and cut and paste and paint to her little heart's delight. I told her we would do it right after Christmas.

Yesterday morning, she popped out of bed (toothless) and said, "Can we do the basement now?"

Um... can we have breakfast?

In any case, after having a bit of sustenance, we took to our task. It became much larger than I first believed it would be. After some time, hubby pitched in. Everything in the play area AND my office (except the desk, thankfully) had to be moved. Bookshelves unloaded, toy boxes shifted, TV/Stereo disassembled and reassembled. It took all day.

I used to have two large bookcases in my office, but one of them held her art supplies and my scrapbooking stuff, so I took the one with my writing stuff and moved it across the room where hers used to be, then replaced it with a long, short set of shelves. It opened up the area behind me very nicely.

I sat down, looked at where all my stuff was (all of about three feet away) and had a severe case of separation anxiety... all of my WIPs were there (the research and whatnot, not the actual ms), notes to myself, spiral pads that I write on constantly when brainstorming. They were so far away, I couldn't reach them easily. I nearly hyperventilated, all the while telling myself it was silly to feel that way.

It didn't matter. I moved them to the long, short bookcase behind me. It doesn't look as neat, but at least I can breathe.