Big Week

On Good Friday (4.6.12), Julia lost her first tooth. The following Wednesday (4.11.12), she had her first surgery (ear tubes), and, two days later, on Friday (4.13.12) she ditched the training wheels for good and learned how to ride a two wheel bike. All of this happened in one week over her school spring break. I told her that was pretty big stuff to share when she returned to school on Monday. She said that at Telling Time they were only allowed to share one thing. I asked which one was she going to share. "Well, I thought about this, mom," she started, "Everyone is going to notice my tooth missing, so I don't need to tell them that. And nobody is going to care about my operation. So, I am going to tell about riding a two wheeler."

Lost Tooth Diaries

Julia has been waiting since the beginning of the school year to loose her first tooth. She's one of the only kindergarteners still with all of her baby teeth. Rule of thumb seems to be that the later a baby gets their teeth, the later they will lose them. And she was on the later end of teething. We've been watching a center, bottom tooth for quite some time now. We had rated is as almost wiggly months ago. Its progress (non-progress, really) was checked daily for a while. It seemed that I was getting regular updates of whom in her class had and hadn't lost teeth.  Eventually, interest on both of our ends dwindled. I had long forgotten about that tooth. Last Saturday, she told me to check it out. It was indeed wiggly. Really, really wiggly. This has been a new experience for me. I foolishly thought it'd be gone within the next day or so. I had no idea how long a tooth could hold on for; didn't realize it could actually sit parallel to the ground and remain attached to the gum.

Well with a gentle yank from her aunt, the tooth finally exited this past Friday.  She borrowed a tooth fairy pillow from her cousins (it has a little pocket on it for the tooth and the subsequent money).  As we put the tooth in she warned me, "Mom, I am going to get you and dad up in the morning to check the pocket with me. So please don't be grumpy when I call you to come in my room." I assured her that she could check it on her own and then tell us later. No, she insisted that we should check it together. I got her to at least compromise and bring the pillow into our room. She conceded but suggested that the light be on so that we could see the money. Eager to get her asleep (and knowing that there is sometimes no other way except agreeing with her), I agreed. I later found that she had given the same lecture to her dad. He also received the "Don't be Grumpy" speech.

Bobby and I went to sleep. The next thing I remember is the light flicking on. Fist clenched and raised high in the air, Julia shouts, "I got a 20 bill!!!!"

"That's great!" I replied. Blind without my contacts, I asked, "What time does my clock say?"

"Three, five, one," she answers.

"I'm so excited for you, Julia, but it's the middle of the night. Now get back to bed."

An 80s Kind of Girl

A few weekends ago, we had a fair at Julia's elementary school. Each classroom was transformed into a themed activity. My sister and I worked one of rooms. Deanna was featuring feathers for all the girls. While she was clamping them in their hair, I was running the till. Bobby took Julia around to all the different rooms. They would stop in the feather room periodically, check in on us and give us updates on what they were doing. After they made it through all the rooms and filled her passport, they decided to stop back in some of her favorites. Business in the feather room slowed down for a bit, so I decided to look for them. I found them in the 80s room. Bobby was standing off on the side with the biggest grin on his face. Julia, the only child on the dance, floor was surrounded by three parents. The Bangles were blaring. To my knowledge she's never heard the song or seen the video, but Julia was walking like an Egyptian in a way in which even Susanna Hoff would be impressed. She looked like an 80s queen fully embracing the moment. One of the moms, my favorite Kate, said to me, "There's a 20 year old in there dying to get out."