Mourning

For weeks, maybe even months, I have been waiting for that tooth to pop through my little Lydia's pink gums ever since she was 3 months old  and the drool poured out of her mouth. She will be 8 months in four days and she still hasn't gotten a tooth. I asked one friend what to do if they didn't come. She assured me that they would and that they were all in there. I asked another friend, she declared reassuringly that no children go to kindergarten without teeth. And another that reminded me that we aren't in Arkansas (sorry Bill Clinton, no offense intended.)

Yesterday my precious little angel was being a precious little brat. She passionately threw every frozen teething soother across the room. In a moment of pure hysteria she went from inconsolable to laughing. When that tiny little mouth opened I saw it. A swollen spot about the size of a pea in the front bottom. A little white peek sneaking through the skin. I excitedly called my mom and texted Eliot. The moment that we have been waiting for has arrived. Then a twinge of sadness seeped in. From this moment on, she would forever have teeth. I would no longer have beautiful toothless baby pictures and the reality that she was quickly entering a new stage, edging closer and closer to toodlerhood.

I dream of the days that she will say her first real sentence, run through the yard kicking the soccer ball, eat ice cream with me on a swing...growing up is part of the plan. Now and then it just makes me a little sad.

This is her working on that sentence!