Two Front Teeth

 Tessa dragged out the Kindergarten Dress, as we have come to call it, this morning to wear to church.  It was a perfect fit, though she is now in first greade, technically speaking.  Now that we homeschool, none of the government-imposed age divisions seem to matter much.  We just learn.  But that is a post for another day.  Probably several.

You may remember the dress (read the post).  

It has many, oh SO many flaws.  

Thankfully we never plan to let Tessa wear it inside out. 

 And I am no photographer, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while, and so after about 60 pictures and a little Picasa photo editing (love this program... it's free! http://picasa.google.com/), 

we got our nut.  A few, actually.

I am always, as is everyone who sees them, blown away by Tessa's eyes.  They are so expressive and bright.  In some light, they look almost white with a blue outline.  Her tender expressions are so intense.  But the one thing 

you don't see in these pictures is her teeth.  

Tessa smiles like Adam, who smiles like Guy.  

A sweet grin that holds back a bit of mystery and reveals a touch of their shyness.  Tessa smiled hard enough to show her little clam-shell full of 

pearly whites in only a few pictures.  

Tiny square teeth in two perfect rows.  

As I looked at one toothy picture, not her best per se, I realized that she told me tonight that both of those sweet little front teeth are loose.  She did so (having been sent to bed, of course) after Ellie came out to display yet another molar suddenly lost.  Ellie is at that age when she is shedding teeth

 like a tree drops fruit in a wind storm.  

Yes, tonight it was Ellie, and some night soon, Tessa will bring me the tiny white tooth (that probably will have dangled mercilessly for two weeks) in the palm of her little hand.  We will ohh and ahh and write out note to

 the Tooth Fairy and tuck it away under her pillow.  

And then sometime in the night (if the Tooth Fairy doesn't forget...duh), the tooth will be retrieved and payment left.  I will hold her tooth - even tinier, by comparison, in my hand - and remember the day it first appeared in her pink little mouth.  She didn't even have curls yet, and her eyes had just begun to change from dark blue to that amazing azure color.  She was so serious and stern looking, 

and nearly impossible to coax a smile from.

Not anymore.

 The Imp

Did I really grow that pretty little thing in this belly?

 "Mom!  Can I please stop smiling now?  It hurts!"

I was instructed I could only use the silly pictures 

she did on purpose, not ones like this.

Too Bad!

OK, here are the "on purpose" ones!...

 I dare you to look at this picture and NOT make 

the face she is making.  Go ahead.  Try.

(whimper!)

 Rascal.  

She's gonna have some serious plucking to do
 when that uni-brow comes all the way in, 

but for now she is sa'dang cute I could just roll her up and put her in my pocket.

Next years pictures will feature a new pair of pearlies. 

But we probably won't see those much, either.

Somewhere off the Coast of Africa

I am having technical difficulties, and cannot get any photos to upload, and a really lame virus has infected my keyboard.  It maks the words Itype hook together nd drops every few leters or spces. Thefaster I type, the wrse t seems to get. 

Anyway, I am sad not to be able to post right now, but I am going to keep trying!!! I the meantime, please enjoy some of my very early posts you may never have red...

Since Tessa lost a tooth this week, and the Toothfairy was, uh, "delayed" again, this one seems apropos!

*************

It is a long time tradition in our family to leave a note to the Tooth Fairy to accompany lost teeth. The notes are a chronicle of the events leading up to the tooth having exited the mouth of a given child. Some have been yanked, some fell out by surprise, once a kid did the whole string-on-the-tooth trick and tied it to a door that was then slammed. It took two slams. The whole thing is a pretty big deal around here, and the note is the Odyssey that immortalizes the tragedy and bravery of it all.

She always writes back.

Only lately the Tooth Fairy letters have become more apology notes than anything else. This week when Ellie’s tooth got caught on her sleeve and popped out (to her gales of laughter), it dawned on me that her last tooth, lost just before Turkey day, had never been taken care of. And by taken care of, I mean she put it in a baggie and left it on the table, I threw it away by accident, she cried, I promised that the Tooth Fairy would visit anyway, yada yada yada, I forgot.

I mean, she did. The Tooth Fairy.

As it happens, we have had to make a lot of excuses on behalf of that dental pixy of late. Not long ago she was caught in a storm over Africa and didn’t make it to our house for FIVE DAYS! The storm itself lasted only two days, but as we explained to the gap-mouthed child, there was a lot of catching up to do, what with the world's children losing teeth left and right and only one tiny pair of wings to carry the load. We were so glad when she finally remembered, I mean, caught up, and visited our house. She left an extra somethin’-somethin’ for that child on account of the delay. Kind of like being bumped up to first class when you have been put on standby.

Tuesday, after Ellie had lost her tooth, I had made a cryptic note on my hand in pen… “TF” it said. “Toothbrush and Floss” I told Ellie when she asked, “so that I remember to brush and floss”. That night as he dozed on the couch I told Guy, the carrier of cash in the family to “go do it now”, but somehow he fell asleep. The next morning there was a sneaky scramble while Ellie ate her cereal, and the absent-minded sprite took care of business in broad daylight.

“Aaaaaaaa! Look!!!!” squealed Ellie as she produced the envelope from under her pillow moments later. “Two dollars!”

We read the note together.

“Ellie, The trash man brought me a tooth a while back that he found. I guess it was yours. A little something for both.

Love- Tooth Fairy”

Post script: Ethan looked at me the other day with a raised eyebrow and a strange grin.

“I know.” He said.

“About what?” says I.

“Santa.” He smiled.

“Ya wanna’ know where ya’ messed up?”

Apparently, he pointed out, among other blunders I committed, Santa and the Tooth Fairy have the same writing.