when the tooth fairy forgets...

The sound of giggles coming from down the hall- usually such a sweet way to wake up.  Until that awful revelation that the toothless child has woken up before me and I went to bed too late with my head too full of other stuff to remember that a tooth was lost today.  So the mad dash to the wallet for a 'golden coin' (Susan B. Anthony), reach to the top shelf of the closet for a dash of fairy dust (proof that it was a real fairy and not me) and a run down the hall are followed by leaping onto the child with a huge hug- one arm sliding under the pillow and kiss on the cheek.  The child looks up and begins the story of how the tooth fairy left  nothing!  So I say, "let's look together."  And upon lifting the pillow the golden coin is laying there and the tooth has been knocked on the floor behind the bed that will need to be retrieved later.  Barely safe, once again.  I hate to admit how many times this has happened to me over the last few years.  Each time I berate myself for not being present enough and being too frazzled to remember the little things.  At this point I'm just glad most teeth are already out.  Between the two of the girls last year we were having weekly visits at one point.  

The little sister also just turned 7.  For those familiar with the 7 year wonder book it is such a magical and wonderful thing to do for your child- if you can remember!  The book has these little stories each night and then the child leaves out their 'wonder book' - a blank artists pad.  The little gnomes come at night to draw a picture from the story and the child wakes to find it next to their bed.  This is an incredibly magical and wonderful thing to do for your child.  If you remember.  But the horror of two little girls coming down the hall with 2 blank notebooks in the morning is near unbearable.  "Why didn't they come?"  "Maybe we didn't say it right?" (There's a little verse you say to invite the gnomes).  And so the next night we'd try again and they would say the verse louder with all their might and lay out the book again.  Then I'd be sitting up half asleep writing little poems and drawing pictures that would take me an hour to do both.  A few weeks into it I hid the book and the journals!  I was feeling so overwhelmed by the process that all the magic was lost for me.  I wish I would've done it, but sometimes I think you just need to cut your losses and move on.  A few days after the little sister's birthday she said, "I wonder if I'll get a 7 year wonder book?"  My stomach lurched and I replied in a near whisper, "hm... I wonder..."