It's just cosmetic

Today the "big girl over there wearing pink" threw a truck down the slide at Ezra and chipped off a substantial part of one of his top center teeth.  Ezra wasn't really crying much when he came over to tell me that his tongue hurt.  I was certain he bit his tongue, but when I looked in his mouth and saw part of his tooth missing, I kind of flipped out.  First, I made Ezra open his mouth for each of my mommy friends so they could see the damage (Ezra's crying escalates).  I made the girl in pink apologize.  She did so with a half-hearted sorry and a shrug of her shoulders. I was not at all happy with her flippant response and start looking around trying to figure out who she was with so I could share my displeasure, but then Ezra sweetly said through his tears, "It's alright," and I learned a lesson about forgiveness from my 2-year old.

My reaction was perhaps a bit over the top, but my baby's beautiful smile won't ever be the same.  Ezra senses this, and while at this point, he had forgiven his "attacker,"  he had not forgotten Mama's initial response to his broken tooth.  He got more and more worked up over his loss.  He insisted we look for the part that fell off so that we can glue it back on.  I told him that teeth don't take to glue and he cries that his "tooth isn't correct anymore."  Honestly, I wanted to wail the same thing.

We stayed at the playground for some time after the tooth incident and eventually (after a good 30 minutes or so) the crying stopped.  His special tooth was now a novelty and he went around the playground proudly explaining how he hurt his tooth and then pulling up his lip to any friend or stranger who was willing to listen.  By the time we got home, he had forgotten about his misfortune and didn't even ask to see it in the mirror.  All of this drama and sadness and loss and he doesn't even know what the tooth he's been crying over looks like.

I don't know why I'm writing about the tooth incident, after all, I'm a pretty inconsistent blogger and most of the time I don't even write about the big things-like birthdays and such, but I can't stop thinking about it.  Every time he smiled this afternoon, I was surprised.  Tonight when I looked at my sleeping boy, I felt sad.

I keep telling myself that it's not a big deal-it's a baby tooth, it doesn't hurt him, it just looks a little different.  In a few days, I probably won't even remember what his smile looked like pre-chip, unless I look at photos.  I won't notice it anymore.  But tonight I understand motherly love a little bit more-you hurt for them (even when they don't hurt) and you mourn their losses (even when they're just cosmetic).  You know it's all a little silly and irrational (In this case I tell myself,"Come on!" Baby teeth fall out anyway!"), but you love them so much you just can't help yourself.

*Pictures of the lost smile.  I'll get a picture of his new "special smile" as soon as I can do so without being too obvious.  Don't want to risk traumatizing him again.