We had our first semi-emergency with Jack earlier this month. He was climbing on and over my husband, Brian, on the floor, who was trying to fix our lifeblood, Tivo, and fell into the coffee table. Knowing it was going to be bad, I ran to him and in this millisecond, thought: Do not blame Brian even though he was playing with him at time…it could happen to anyone…it’s an accident. With this in mind, looking through the blood I heard Brian say- “his front tooth is gone”. I tore up the room looking for the tooth, determined to transplant it myself if need be like I saw once a Discovery Health channel show. When I couldn’t find the tooth, I despondently called a pediatric dentist at home at 9pm at night (isn’t the internet great!), and reported the tooth swallowed and unrecoverable.
In the middle of our emergency, a roofing contractor came by to give a quote (ever notice contractors are ever-present when it’s less than ideal but otherwise impossible to locate?). Brian disappeared for a few minutes with the contractor, who apparently has two boys who knocked their teeth out when they were three. Brian came back announcing “Baby, it’s not a big deal, all boys knock out their front teeth!” I stared at him.
“All boys? What 2 year olds do you know that don’t have front teeth?!”. I was not buying these boys-will-be-boys-and-don’t have-teeth and was already calculating the cost of baby teeth veneers and implants. Amazing enough, after a sleepless night, the dentist located the missing tooth jammed up in Jack's gums and in a stunning turn of good news, said it will probably come back down on its own! So we survived our first medical emergency and as I was congratulating myself on my non-judgmental calm in crises, I overheard Brian on the phone: “so then, she totally freaked out on me…” Argh, what must I do to be recognized as a saint in medical crises!? I think after 15 years, he cheats by reading my mind.
I know all the more seasoned parents are reading this and rolling their eyes;
"A missing tooth? Give me break. Give me a call when he saws off an appendage or sets the neighbors barn on fire" but it's a trauma with training wheels, enough to start out with. I hope I will still be telling this story when he's 22 as the most major of our mishaps. What are my odds?