this boy

So this boy told me upon stepping out of the van, in the dentist's parking lot the other day, that his front tooth hurt. I told him to just let the dentist know. That he would be able to tell us what to do. This was the first I'd heard of his pain and figured, "well, at least we're here."

As it turns out, this boy's permanent tooth was completely through and peeking ever so sneakily behind his baby tooth. I had no clue. They said they'd pull it in a few weeks when he returns to have a couple of cavities filled.

During a family movie on the sofa last night, this boy looked up at me with those gorgeous almond eyes and said, "Mama, my tooth really hurts." I encouraged him to wiggle it and let me look. So he did and I did. And there was a bloody little tooth there. He could taste it and a tiny look of panic washed over his face.

"Can you pull it, mama?"

"I can try, baby. I'm not quite sure it's ready."

"You want a napkin to help you, mama?"

"Yep. Run and grab one."

He's seen this scenario play out with Syd. He flew back to the living room with said napkin.

And three tries later, this boy had lost his first tooth.

And I told this boy over and over how proud I was of him. That we would get a hot fudge sundae {his fave!} from McDonalds the next day. To which he did the fist, arm pulled back "YES!" thing like guys do.

And a few minutes later, this boy walked upstairs to sleep in the room with his sisters, you know, "since it's summertime!".

And his mama lost it. Because I realized in that moment that we had been beautifully granted another first with Joel. One that, in a perfect and right world, his first mom would have had. That reality fell hard on me. My chest hurt. My heart ached. My eyes flooded as Jase held me and this truth played over again in my head.

She's missing more of his firsts. And I have mysteriously, graciously and lovingly been given them in her stead.