Finn’s front teeth are going to fall out any minute. They are literally hanging by a thread and sticking out of his mouth at strange angles. I’m trying to be OK with this. His face will change so much when permanent teeth grace his grin. He will start to look like his permanent self and the last vestiges of his baby face will fade away. I grieved his fat thighs, his toothless smile, his dimpled hands and his ringlet curls. But I will grieve his front teeth more. I will get over it and the tooth fairy will probably forget to come (she is notorious for being a slacker at my house) and I will be thankful for everyday he’s alive and well. But it is so hard to let go. RIP little baby teeth and RIP my first era of motherhood.
In other news, Mr Snaggletooth is home sick with a fever and snuggled up with an equally snaggle toothed Ewok. They are watching Tora! Tora! Tora! Finn is reading the sub titles to Romeo with a variety of Axis accents. I’m grading papers and trying not to laugh at such seriousness.
Meanwhile, Coralie, who is about to loose her very, very last baby tooth has decided that knee socks = winter pants. She looks adorable but it is so hard not to get down on my knees and yell to the heavens “for the love of all that is holy, put on a winter coat!!”
Sidebar: scientist have discovered that happy tears and sad tears look completely different under a microscope. The saline content and composition is drastically different, though both are beautiful when magnified. The sad tears look like broken snowflakes. Last night when Finn was feeling too miserable to sleep he said “broken snowflakes are falling on my cheeks”. Mine too, baby boy, mine, too.