Crap! It happened already and it is technically only his 2nd lost tooth.
Last night, my son diligently put his baby tooth, the one he pulled out all by himself, "It was easy peasy Mom!", under his pillow. And this morning he walked into our room, completely deflated, holding the little bag with the tooth still in it. The most disappointed I have ever seen him.
"How come the tooth fairy didn't come?"
The Consort was quick on his feet and managed to give the kid a plausible answer (something about Halloween and Jawbreaker candies), while I tried to duck around the corner and figuratively kick myself with the full force of my Mommy Guilt.
The "Tooth Fairy" had a busy day. There was the family dinner and the late bedtime and then she had just watched that very disturbing episode of Walking Dead and was folding ALL THE LAUNDRY and.. and... and....
Childhood is supposed to be a magical time. A time when we believe in fairies and Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and all that jazz. And while I do, to a certain degree, still believe in the magic of the world around us, lately I am having a hard time reconciling the fact that, about certain things, I am lying to my kids. And in our house, one of our top family rules is, No Lying.
I worry that when my kids finally do figure out the whole Santa or Tooth Fairy thing, they are going to walk into my room, look at me, shake their heads, let out a big giant sigh, and give me that look of terrible disappointment. You know, the one that says "How could you do this to me all these years?" look.
Or maybe (hopefully) they will be a bit older, and will realize what we were doing. That we were (are) keeping the magic alive, making memories that we will all cherish forever, seeing enchantment in the mundane and walking amongst the twinkly lights and fairy dust that helps us through this sometimes dark-ish journey of life.
We are a rather secular family. My kids have been to church, or as they like to call it, Jesus' House, with my parents, but a regular religious practice is not part of our lives. Faith on the other hand is. Faith in some form of a higher power, faith in each other, faith that everything happens for a reason and faith in our love for our world and our desire to make it a better one.
I think this whole believing in magic and Santa and the Tooth Fairy and yes, even that pesky Elf on a Shelf is part of that kind of faith. And in my view, all of these magical traditions are linked to celebrations of life and love. Of giving and receiving and the changing of seasons and the milestones of our lives. They provide us with stop points in our journeys together. Pins on our giant map of life that connect us to each other, to where we have been and to where we are going next.
Photo Credit: Cali4beach on Flickr
Ok, so maybe I went a bit deep in regards to this whole Tooth Fairy fail and forgetting to put $2 under my kid's pillow for his little tooth. This is what happens when you let all that mom guilt take hold of you. You delve into the tunnels of trying to be a mindful parent and come up with a long romanticized rationale for lying to your kids.
There WILL be magic in their childhoods.
NO, I am not doing some kind of crazy Dinosaur thing (although my kids would LOVE that!).
And NO, there is no one growing a moustache around here (although I appreciate the efforts of all those who don the creepy '70s adult film star look).
November around here means WRITING.
As in #NaBloPoMo.
I signed up "officially" with Blogher this year, along with over 1200 others.
As the wonderful Alexandra Rosas from Good Day, Regular People wrote...
"There are stories waiting to finally breath..."