Happy Tuesday. Even the newspaper took a break on Labour Day, so no column this week.
But it’s an exciting night in the Lucas household: Xander’s first baby tooth has fallen out. He now has a very adorable gap in his smile.
It’s funny the things you get worked up about as a parent. Shawna and I both got all misty about a tooth. Our oldest seems so big all of a sudden. He just started Grade 1, he’s becoming more independent… one day his tooth is falling out and next thing we know he’ll be getting his licence.
Anyhow, now we have to scrounge up a loonie for the Tooth Fairy’s first official visit. Hilariously, Oscar grabbed the tooth as soon as it fell out and sprinted downstairs, shouting “Under his pillow!” They’re both a little crazed about money right now. A mouth full of loose teeth is like a gold mine.
Incidentally, I also just discovered that I’m kind of squeamish about teeth. I have dealt with a lot of very gross things as a parent and barely flinched. I have cleaned up pools of blood and held my daughter still while an ER doctor sewed up her knee. I have faced down diaper explosions and barf disasters that would have made lesser men go weak in the knees. But watching Xander bite into an apple with his tooth jutting out at a 45-degree angle? That gave me the willies.
In other, less bittersweet milestone news, Gideon has decided to potty-train himself. He’ll suddenly announce “Iya go poop!” and then he’ll get out his little potty seat and set it on the toilet. He’ll hang out there for a minute and then announce that he’s done. This activity hasn’t borne any fruit yet, so to speak (trying not to get too graphic here with my euphemisms), but we’re encouraged that he’s thinking about it anyway. He’s not even two yet and we’re not going to push him, but it would be wonderful if he’d decide to be done with diapers soon.
That will be a milestone worth celebrating. We still have a ways to go, as Maliah’s in diapers too and we’re taking our time with her. As much as I’d love to potty-train her, we want some basic communication in place first. I don’t want her first real word to be “poop.”
But on the day I change my last diaper there will be no tears of nostalgia. No, there will be cake, and champagne, and possibly fireworks.