Some milestones come and go marked only by some momentos or photographs. Some leave lasting changes - sitting unassisted, first steps, first words, first teeth. Then there's the milestones like the one Logan marked today.
Logan was about 6 months old when the first edges of a tooth broke through his gums. We have pictures of that baby smile with little white, sharp edges flashing out of pinky flesh.
Nearly 5 years on the nose from the emergence of that first tooth, that very same baby tooth began to wiggle. Today, that baby tooth fell out.
Understandably the boy is estatic. He's told nearly everyone he knows today with plans to tell the rest when he sees them tomorrow. He went to bed with high hopes of waking up to find photographic proof of what the tooth fairy sculptes with all those colleted teeth and a gold coin waiting for him. He's gleefully traded in "Mr. Wiggles", the nickname I gave him, for a new nickname, "Gap." He's anxious to wear the new long-sleeve tee that is emblazoned with this nickname. (Of course, remarkably it looks much like the logo of a certain clothing chain. Imagine that. Let's all give thanks to the clearance rack.)
In his young mind this is huge. This is on par with the first day of Kindgarten and that day way off in the future when you get your driver's license for the first time. This is a right of passage.
Of course, his view of it really isn't off the mark is it?
It was easy to still see him as that 'little kid' who was part of the little ones in the school even though the bus took them to and fro. It was easy to see him as a bigger version of what he's always been. Yet today the tooth became a symbol, a reminder that there's more to it than that. Today he lost a little piece of babyhood to make room for the next stage of his life.
I've been told that his face will change as those big teeth move in. Those remaining vestiages of his 'baby-face' will make way for his next rendition. The process still lies ahead of us, certainly. This is but one tooth. And yet, it's the first step.
Tommorow he'll wake, giddy to find his golden coin, his note, a toothbrush and some "fairy dust" (aka star shaped glitter.) He'll enjoy another day of showing off his new look and then he'll begin pulling and pushing on his other teeth - waiting. Hoping. Ready for step number 2.
2.28.2008
2.17.2008
Take me back to '84
Tonight I was 11 years old again.
As a child of the 80s it shouldn't be a surprise that I did my time as a Knight Rider groupie. I was 9 years old when "The Hoff" was cool and a black T-top convertible was THE car to pine for. From it's debut in 1982 to it's sign-off in 1986(yes I had to look those dates up) I watched faithfully. For my best friend and I, Knight Rider was the grade-school, and then junior high, equivalent to water cooler fodder.
Tonight the latest attempt to revive a little 80s flair took to the air. I watched. How could I not? I watched and I found myself glued - again. I'm not reviewing the made-for-TV-movie-pilot-in-disguise. I didn't watch it with an eye towards it's own merits. I watched it as the catalyst to take a trip down memory lane.
For a few hours tonight I was 11 again and it was 1984. The chill of a winter wind and rain storm meant nothing to my feet thanks to my beloved wigwam socks. My copy of Thriller was idle in my boom box - who can listen to the one-gloved wonder when "my" show is on, especially when, for a few hours anyway, he wasn't some freaky, bleached out middle-aged guy? My big poof 80s hair was doing it's big poof thing.
The moment it went off, 2008 came trickling back. Of course, I did manage to use my non-80s-esque Internet access to email the aforementioned best friend a little water cooler talk. While we're sipping our virtual beverages let me ask you - do you think KITT is any good at disipline? Can I get my mommy-car outfitted with that voice module?
Seriously though, now all I need is for Scarecrow and Mrs. King to make a comeback.
As a child of the 80s it shouldn't be a surprise that I did my time as a Knight Rider groupie. I was 9 years old when "The Hoff" was cool and a black T-top convertible was THE car to pine for. From it's debut in 1982 to it's sign-off in 1986(yes I had to look those dates up) I watched faithfully. For my best friend and I, Knight Rider was the grade-school, and then junior high, equivalent to water cooler fodder.
Tonight the latest attempt to revive a little 80s flair took to the air. I watched. How could I not? I watched and I found myself glued - again. I'm not reviewing the made-for-TV-movie-pilot-in-disguise. I didn't watch it with an eye towards it's own merits. I watched it as the catalyst to take a trip down memory lane.
For a few hours tonight I was 11 again and it was 1984. The chill of a winter wind and rain storm meant nothing to my feet thanks to my beloved wigwam socks. My copy of Thriller was idle in my boom box - who can listen to the one-gloved wonder when "my" show is on, especially when, for a few hours anyway, he wasn't some freaky, bleached out middle-aged guy? My big poof 80s hair was doing it's big poof thing.
The moment it went off, 2008 came trickling back. Of course, I did manage to use my non-80s-esque Internet access to email the aforementioned best friend a little water cooler talk. While we're sipping our virtual beverages let me ask you - do you think KITT is any good at disipline? Can I get my mommy-car outfitted with that voice module?
Seriously though, now all I need is for Scarecrow and Mrs. King to make a comeback.
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