Well, Ellie lost her first tooth. It was wiggly for a long time, maybe a month? And then yesterday it was just hanging on by a thread and she was letting everyone see how wiggly it was. And she told Henry to come wiggle her tooth and he did and then I heard, "Mom! My tooth fell out." So now she is telling everyone that Henry pulled out her tooth. Weird.
Before bed she made sure to brush her tooth before putting it in a little box for the tooth fairy. And she wrote a note asking for a chocolate penny. And the tooth fairy delivered. Isn't that nice of her?
Six years (5.5 + pregnancy, if you don't think that math works out) that have changed so much, brought so much goodness and laughter and also worry and frustration. If there's anything about being a parent, I think it's the intensity of emotion. You will never know more joy and love, but you also open yourself up to such deep concern and even pain. You have to really live every moment of your life as a mother. Theres not a lot of time that can be dulled or forgotten about or blurred behind a TV. You have to really be there for everything, the good and the bad. But that good is worth so much more than the bad. And it's this intensity that I think can make parents really wonderful people, because they care so deeply, they (hopefully) think so much about the results of their actions.
Of course this is a huge generalization about parents that isn't meant to say anything but that children are a wonderful gift and a big responsibility and I'm glad I get to be a parent to such amazing children as these. And I hope and pray and worry that I am being a good enough one. That they know how much they are loved, and also how much I care about their current and future well-being.
Although sometimes she starts to say something and I start to panic a little like, "Uhhhh... where is this going?" So far, she always brings it around in the end and I can breathe a big sigh of relief. Like the other day she was getting dressed and pointed to her naked belly and said, "Look! I'm naked like the naked man!" Every child abuse article I've ever read flashed before my eyes in a moment of sheer terror as I tried to ask, as calmly as possible, "What naked guy, honey?" She answered, "The one from the story of Eve with the snake." "Oh that guy. His name is Adam." Whew. That got a little scary for a moment.
When I ask her if she has something to tell me, the list is never ending. And often times at dinner she'll start to tell us about her dream that she had the previous night. Twenty minutes later, Steve and I are done eating and she's still telling the same ridiculous dream about who-knows-what and hasn't touched a thing on her plate. The other day she said to me, "Ok mom, I am going to tell you my dream. But it's really long. I'll tell it until Daddy comes home and then I'll tell it to him again." I tried to save us both some time by suggesting she tell it to us both at dinner, and she accepted. And it was another dinner in which she talked the whole time and no one else got to say anything. We're working on it.
P.S. This second plus sign always brings home these ridiculous hats from preschool. They're so funny that I think they deserve a shoutout.
