My 4 year old spent Saturday night at my in-laws. We try to do this every month for several reasons: 1. He likes to stay there. 2. They get to spend one-on-one time with their grandson. 3. We need some time alone after the little guy goes to bed.
Expecting nothing out of the ordinary, I surprisingly got a phone call from my 4 year old at 7pm Saturday night informing me his tooth fell out. I had no idea what he was talking about. Was I even remotely expecting my 4 year old to lose a tooth? No. Did he happen to mention to me that he had a loose tooth? No. I started speaking loudly and quickly asking all sorts of questions. I guess I started to panic a little bit. He was completely fine. I was in a tizzy. That basically sums up my life.
Once I got it through my thick skull that he was, in fact, fine, I felt sad. I actually wanted to cry. I missed the first tooth coming out. I'm sure there will be plenty more, but this was the first tooth of my firstborn. I wanted to be angry or resentful towards my in-laws, but that would be completely irrational. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I am completely irrational. This time I wasn't.
It's a strange feeling when you realize your little boy is growing up. I'm so proud of him and I'm so scared for him all at the same time. I want to keep him little where I can protect him but I want him to grow into a confident, independent man. Who would've thought all these feelings would arise from one little tooth falling out?