The tooth fairy and the theory of relativity

My 12 year old still has some baby teeth to lose.  As a parent, I am reluctant to have those last bloody vestiges of childhood fall out, but I also am ready to be done with the whole tooth fairy thing.  the charade that goes something like this.  "Mom, my tooth is loose.  I think you should  alert the tooth fairy. It's akin to "My birthday is in two days and I really want Rock Band."   

Gone are the days of fear of the blood that spurts out when the old comes out and the new emerges. Gone are the days of carefully wrapping the tooth and putting it in the tooth pillow that we painstakenly stitched together from a kit.  Gone are the mornings when he came running down the stairs clutching the stuffed frog that the tooth fairy had somehow placed there.  How did she know that he loves frogs?  

Now, there is disappointment in the hastily placed trinket.  Listen, who has time at 9:00 pm at night, when the tooth comes out to run to Target and find the perfect memento?  I know I set up the wrong dynamic in the beginning.  Some thoughtful, perfect parents started writing their children heartfelt, perfect notes when they lost teeth.  Some bought a series of silver dollars (or whatever alloy the government uses now) so their children could grow a hedge fund when they were done growing teeth.  

But I thought back to my own childhood of lost teeth and imagined the glee I would have felt if there had been a new Barbie under my pillow in the morning, and like most parents my age, transferred that imagined loss into excess for my children.  And I say imagined, because  I had a fabulous childhood full of wonder.

So, I spend hours wondering how to handle the tooth fairy thing so as not to disappoint my son.  He knows it is me.  He knows I am tired of it, but he stills cherishes his last bit of childhood. And I want to give him that last bit of innocence, so I keep up the act. But, let's put it in perspective.

A good friend of mine has a grandson with cerebral palsy.  This beautiful boy ( and he is gorgeous) is about 8 years old and full into losing teeth mode.  When he loses a tooth- the drill (sorry for the pun)goes something like this-  They have to call an oral surgeon in to extract the tooth.  The child needs sedation for this procedure.  The timing is critical.  The surgeon extracts the tooth and holds it up for examination.  Everyone holds their breath until the surgeon says- " There is a lot of healthy stem cells still attached and thriving on the base of this baby tooth. Send it in."  You see, there are still stem cells attached to baby teeth.  Those stem cells are sent to a lab that does something scientific to them and they are put on hold for this boy to possibly be used to heal him in the future- hopefully near future.  

I don't understand how it all works.  It is science but it seems like wondrous magic to me. So, this boy is the real tooth fairy to me.  He is the one who leaves a little gift under his pillow.  His is a childhood full of wonder. The wonder of science and a family so loving they are willing to go to great lengths to try new procedures that might help him someday.  His parents are probably not sitting around imagining loss from their own childhoods, but envisioning hope for his. 

And I think I know what I'll leave under my own son's pillow next time.  This note, and maybe a silver dollar.  I think, if I teach him perspective, he will understand.

Comments

[Beth]

Hi Amy! I'm the mother of that gorgeous little boy and your note made me cry at my desk as I sit here at work. Thank you for writing something so beautiful (and funny!) and we will never ever give up hope! Science is going to happen for him!

[Beth]

p.s. I'm going to save this note for him for the day he's able to read it out loud. :-)