Just finished being Santa...moving on to the Tooth Fairy.

It took a lot for me to give this post a lighthearted title.

I'm mostly ok with the events of January 8th, but I still have back and forth moments of being sad.

My mom had left that morning and it was officially the end of our holiday vacation.  We'd had visitors twice, celebrated Christmas, and been on a vacation.  Needless to say, it had been over two weeks since my kids were on their normal schedules.  Anyway, we'd all just sat in the hot tub at my in-laws and the drive home was super mellow and relaxed.  My plan was to put the kids to bed, exercise for 30 minutes, then go to bed myself, hopefully by 9:30.  I even said to Paul, "I think this will be the first time ever that I go to bed before 'Parenthood' even starts."

We got home and Garrett and I were in the living room, Paul took Addie to her room to put her jammies on.  I was washing some lettuce and the monitor was sitting on the counter top.  I heard Paul's normal diaper changing sound effects.  It was kind of muffles, but I heard him say, "No, no, no!"  I figured Addie had put her hand in a dirty diaper or something.  Then I heard screaming, from Paul and Addie... I still wasn't sure if they were playing or really screaming.  Then I heard my name.  I took off down the hall.  Paul was running down the hall toward me hold the screaming Addie.  All I remember is him saying, "She fell, she fell!"  Addie turned toward me and her face was covered in blood.  I then saw Paul's shirt, also covered in blood.  We ran to the kitchen and I grabbed towels.  I felt like I started hyperventilating and I also started to cry.  To say there was blood pouring out of her mouth is accurate.  I was trying to get the story from Paul, but it didn't matter.  I couldn't wipe away the blood fast enough to see a cut anywhere.  It was literally pooling in her mouth within seconds of me sopping it up.  But I finally saw.  The dark hole in her gums.  "PAUL! HER TOOTH IS GONE!"  It can't be real.  Teeth don't just get knocked out. It's a movie thing.  Not a real life, one year old little girl thing. Poor Garrett watching me cry/freak out/seeing all the blood.  Poor Addie in pain.  Poor Paul feeling responsible.  "Paul, go find the tooth!!"  He ran down the hall.  I called my FIL to meet us at the ER and take G.  We were in the car and on the way.  I squatted in the van next to Addie the whole way, saying, "I'm so sorry baby girl, I'm so sorry."  I got her to drink some warm water on the way and the bleeding let up quite a bit.

Fast forward to the ER.  Paul and I walk through the double doors, each holding a kid.  The room was packed and really quiet.  Garrett was wearing bright green shorty shorts with an over-sized bright yellow t-shirt, no socks, no shoes.  Addie was wearing a t-shirt and diaper, no pants, shoes or socks, with blood on her face and shirt.  Paul was wearing a dress shirt covered in blood.  I really was going to exercise and go to bed, so I had no make-up on, and had changed into work-out clothes.  And this may come as a surprise to you, but when I put on my work-out clothes, I don't look like a sponsored athlete.  If I listened closely, I could hear the applause for parents of the year.

I'll be the first to admit that if I'm at the ER, I'm there because I feel like my situation is an emergency, so unless you get wheeled in on a stretcher or you're carrying your own arm, you should wait your turn.  But when I heard it would be over an hour that I had to stand there holding my crying bloody baby, I did some really loud complaining to Paul, right by the check-in desk, and we were with a doctor in less than 5 minutes.    No concussion, no broken bones, and nothing they could do about the tooth.  The ER doc told us to give her tylonol, and check her often throughout the night and then to follow up with our pediatrician.

Addie slept great.  Paul and I didn't.  I got up early and made an appointment with her doctor.  Paul called his dentist friend from the Lion's Club, and he got us right in.  It was very comforting talking to the dentist, (who had a son who, when he was 8 months old, had a tooth get knocked out).  He told me that the risks/discomfort of a spacer are much greater than just embracing the new little window in her mouth that will be there for several years, until her permanent teeth come in.  It would require a fake tooth, a wire in her mouth bridging them together that would be in there until she started losing other baby teeth, and general anesthesia.  I started feeling better about the gap after that visit.  We really didn't need to go to the pediatrician, but I figured, what the hell, what's one more co-pay.  He just checked her again for concussion symptoms, and told us to call for an antibiotic if we saw any swelling.  (The dentist also told us that same thing.)  We also learned at the dentist when they called to verify coverage that our kids didn't get automatically added to our dental insurance like they do with health insurance. Awesome.  Fortunately, the Lion's have a 'help out fellow lion's' mentality, and that visit was free.

So that's it.  Addie is fine.  Her mouth is healing fast.  And her front bottom left baby tooth is forever gone.  Sigh...

Here's the quick, how it happened, story.  She was on her changing table.  She's at the phase that Garrett went through where it's nearly impossible to change her diaper alone.  She kicks, arches her back, flips, grabs at everything...  Paul had his hand on her leg, opened the middle drawer to get a sleeper, (her changing table is her dresser), and she did a flip that he didn't even see coming.  He caught her legs but it was too late.  Her face had hit the corner of the drawer before he could get a hold of her.

In the stress of it all I said some things I shouldn't have, like, "did you really have a hand on her!?" and, "I feel like you're never as careful with the kids as I am."  But I know it could have just as easily happened to me, and he feels absolutely awful about it.  But it could have been a lot worse, and thankfully she's just fine.

The tooth came completely out.  Not sure how she hit, but the tooth ripped forward, not up or back, so she has a cut down the front of her gums.

 Playing with a mirror, trying to get comfortable at the dentist's office.

 Checking the space, making sure no other teeth are loose.

At our last appointment for the day...taking a look at the tooth.  I told Paul, she's thinking, "I better get something good for this one."  We decided we'll save it, and when her next tooth comes out, (hopefully not for 4 or 5 years) we'll let her double up on tooth fairy money, or whatever we decide to give.

She's been her happy, cute self since.  This was right after the appointments, just enjoying the ride. It's a bright cell phone pic, but if you look closely you can see the hole.

I told Paul last night, I really need to learn to pull it together in emergency/traumatic situations with our kids, because unfortunately I'm sure this won't be our only incident.  And I did not handle it well.  I can only imagine how much more scary it became for both kids when I started crying and panicking.  But I hope I have a while to learn and plan for the next one.