No, that tooth hasn’t fallen out yet. But we’re getting closer. I know I mentioned before that Alex has two adult teeth that have sprouted up behind his two front middle lower baby teeth – so he’d kind of like a little shark. Well, one of the baby teeth is VERY wiggley. He is so impatient for this tooth to fall out. He wanted to chomp on a carrot because he saw Baby Bugs Bunny lose a baby tooth on "Baby Looney Tunes" that way and figured he’d give it a try. Didn’t work, though, because it hurt too much to bite down on the carrot with that particular tooth.
I am, naturally, leaning a bit toward the weepy "my baby boy is growing up" end of things…but that’s how I am. And I don’t think it ends, ever. (See my sister’s irate-verging-on-hostile-with-a-touch-of-mania-thrown-in-for-good-measure comment immediately after this post earlier today.) I mean, no, I don’t wish my kids were tiny babies again. In diapers. It was an amazing time in my life, and when I look at their baby pictures, sure I get all Kodak-moment weepy…but it’s pretty cool right now because they can both walk, eat, and go to the bathroom without my assistance. So there’s always that back and forth of emotion, I think. Looking back – how little, how tiny, how amazing, and how quickly it’s gone by…and no, I don’t want them to grow up too quickly. But they will. And all those first things – those milestones of smiles and baby teeth and baby steps and solid foods and crawling and walking and running – all steps on their own roads to independence; steps on the road that takes them out of my protective embrace and into their own lives. These are great moments, moments of pride and accomplishment. But at the same time I feel like – no, no, not yet….
Okay, got a bit rambly there.
Anyway, so Alex is joyfully on the verge of losing his first tooth. He will holler from another room "Mom! My tooth is SUPER wiggly NOW!" And I will take a peek and check the wiggle status with my own finger, and sure enough, it is even more wiggly than it was this morning. And he will grin that little baby shark grin and sing out "Tooth Fairy!"
So that’s where we are with the tooth. I’m including a picture of his doubled up baby teeth for any of you who are curious – just keep going to the end of this post and click on the "continue reading" link thing. I don’t want to frighten anyone by posting it right up front here.
In other Alex news…he went "SUPERFAST!" the other day when Bill took the kids for another ski lesson, and enjoyed that immensely. He didn’t enjoy falling down or trying to walk sideways up the hill.
He gets frustrated when he can’t do things right off the bat. And it’s scary to me how upset he gets with himself. He started a new level in swim class last night, and one of the things some of the kids did was to jump off the racing platforms at the deep end of the pool.
I watched Alex from where Bill and I sat on the benches near the shallow end of the pool, and I could see how badly he wanted to jump in. He was so excited at first – I could tell by the way he practically ran in place waiting for his turn.
But then when it was his turn, he climbed up on the platform and looked at the teacher, who was in the water, beckoning him, and…he didn’t go. He crouched down a bit, like he was about to jump, and in my mind I was urging him on, go, Alex! You can do it! But of course, that does no good. I held my breath, hoping, hoping…
But he didn’t jump.
There had been two other kids before him who didn’t jump either, and the teacher gave them the option of jumping from the edge of the pool instead of from the platform. And both of them jumped. She gave Alex the same chance, and he was there – right at the edge, knees bent, head down, looking at the water, bouncing a bit, looking like he was going to do it…
But he didn’t jump.
And then the class was over.
And he came back to our end of the pool, his face drawn and brows furrowed. On the verge of hitting something. On the verge of tears.
Getting to some of those firsts is daunting. Gut-wrenching. Stressful. Tearful.
No matter which end of the pool you’re at.
That white stuff on his cheek – toothpaste residue. It’s not foam from his rabid gnashing of teeth, I swear.