Here's another essay I wrote for
Mamalode Magazine that wasn't chosen for publication. I wrote this one about a year ago. It details one of those mama mishaps that is only funny when you have completely removed yourself from the situation.
I should’ve known something like this could happen. Crazy
stuff happens to kids every day but aside from a few scraped knees and an ear
infection, our life as parents was, for the most part, stress-free. Up until
recently, we had escaped major trauma. I wasn’t expecting, nor prepared for, another
one so soon. And all fingers would’ve pointed to the accident happening to our youngest,
a.k.a. “Crash.” That morning the girls
and I went to the bouncy castle playgroup.
While the girls played, I found myself in a conversation with a mom
acquaintance; I described for her the many differences between our cautious,
older daughter and her accident prone sister. Ironically, just seconds later, I ate my
words.
There was a scream. I watched as my older daughter ran
towards me crying, both hands covering her face. I remained calm, guessing she
had bitten her tongue and perhaps just needed a hug. When I pulled her hands away,
there was blood. I pried her mouth open and my face drained of color. One of
her top front teeth was gone; a gaping hole in its place. How did this happen?
Three year olds don’t lose teeth, they cut off their hair, right?!? Then I remembered
Crash. In a mere 10 seconds she had climbed atop a nearby table. My mom
acquaintance jumped in and offered to look after her while I tended to the
Bloody Mess. I was trying my damnedest not to let my daughter know I was
scared. I wanted to look for her tooth, but the other mom knew better. They don’t glue teeth back in, she said.
I called my husband at work, he’d know what to do, right? Cool-headed Daddy phoned
the dentist. They said to bring her immediately, they were about to break for
lunch but would wait. I thanked the other mom and made a hasty retreat. We had only
driven a block or so when the Bloody Mess in the back seat spoke up. Where are we going mama? I told her we
were meeting Daddy at the dentist. But
why, mama? My teef feel more better now. Through my tears, I managed to
laugh. I told her the dentist just wanted to look and make sure everything was
alright. Oh, can I have a lollipop? She
may have been over it, but I wasn’t.
The scene at the dentist’s was not my proudest moment. I
cried, especially when the dentist told me her other front tooth would have to
be pulled; it was hanging on by a thread. Cool-headed Daddy took a picture of
the Bloody Mess and posted it to Facebook. Check
out my new smile, the caption read. We
were free to go. Baby teeth are baby teeth, they told us, even if they fall out
three years too soon. The tooth fairy was coming to our house!?!
The Bloody Mess likes that there are two fewer teeth to
floss every night. She eats whatever she wants without inhibition or
difficulty. Periodically, she asks when her new teeth are coming in, but six
months has passed and she rarely mentions it now. We were flooded with kind
words from friends who saw the Facebook post. “She’s still as beautiful as
ever” and “An accident like this builds character” were some of the responses. While
accidents may build character, it definitely adds a few grey hairs to a mama’s
head and left me yearning for a stiff drink and a Valium.
