It finally happened. It started three days ago and ended today with an excited, scared scream from upstairs. "MOOOOOOOOM!!!!!?" with a tinge of question at the end. It was almost the scream when there's a bug in the room, but not quite as scared. Mix that with an almost scream when something amazing and cool has happened, like a "come see!!", but not totally excited. I dropped my cook book and started running towards Sam and met him in the dining room (he runs faster than I do). "It didn't even HURT!!" and I look down and see the smallest tooth out of one's mouth I have ever seen. He was SOOO proud. And his second comment was that he asked to call his dad. That melted my heart.
He's so excited about the toothfairy. We've never really even talked about the toothfairy. He asked the other day, "Do we believe in the toothfairy?" Questions like these stump me because I don't want to lie to him but I don't want to take all the fun out of losing a tooth either. It's a HUGE deal! I ended up saying that it's something fun to believe in, but it's not real. And he says? "Like Santa!" Yup. Like Santa. Luckily I picked up some chocolate coins yesterday at the store.
Things found #1:
I found another baker in the family. She LOVES to help. So I let her. Sometimes more ends up all over her (hence no clothes...easier to clean her up than do more laundry), than in the bowl, but she loves being my helper. And I love that she loves being in the kitchen. Plus she likes to lick the beaters when we're all done.
Things found #2:
Yesterday I found some new sprouts. Why is this exciting? Well because the backyard causes me grumpiness when I have to move the sprinkler. And the faster that grass grows, the less chances I have of loosing my flip flops from the thick sucking clay when it gets wet and end up ankle deep, in bare feet, looking for my flip flops that have disappeared in the bowels of the mud sludge. I've moved on to wearing Ed's yard shoes (at his suggestion) in which my feet have only been sucked out of the shoes twice with little damage to the bareness of the skin sinking in the mirey clay. So yay for the little sprouts! I try not to step on them when I'm trudging across the barren waste land of mud while trying not to grumble bad things under my breath as to how heavy the shoes are that are once again caked with 5 inches of heavy clay. At this I do not exagerate. And amidst my grumbling I apologize to the little sprouts for stepping on them and encourage them to grow. Hey...it works.