Apparently, it has been too delightfully boring and wonderfully normal around the Swenson house. Because Ezra cracked his tooth this week when he slipped on the wet floor from his knees while I was cleaning him up after dinner. I will not recount just how sad and torn up I was over the whole incident. W first called Kaiser and then our friend, Will the Orthodontist, to make arragements to see him the next afternoon.
The following day the tooth was no longer stationary, so W left work early and we drove to the local office of the
Alameda Pediatrics Dentistry to get it checked out, only to learn that this office is closed on Mondays. W called the emergency line and name-dropped Will with the Alameda office (which is about 30 miles away) and we made an appointment for as-soon-as-we-could-get-there and were on our way.
They examined E and decided the best thing for him was to extract the tooth. There was really no hope of salvaging it. My Knight stayed with Ezra during the quick procedure while I waited outside, trying not to cry in front of the handful of kids waiting for their appointments. The staff was so great at making us feeling comfortable and confident. One assistant shared how her little girl had two chipped teeth. And Dr. Perry {who has three grandkids of his own} was superbly helpful and professional. It went as smoothly as it could have.
Ezra was so wiped by the whole thing that he was out cold on the drive home.
I finally found relief that evening during dinner while talking with W. I realized that I'd been carrying the weight of the incident and damaged tooth that whole day and night before. And I was so exhausted by it. I guess I was worried that he wouldn't be the same little cutie as before; that this had somehow changed who he was or tarnished his adorableness. But W had taken some pictures while I was at the grocery store and showed me that my worries were no longer needed.
Sure, his perfect little smile isn't so perfect anymore, but he is still that sweet, handsome, little fire-cracker with a larger-than-life personality that I know and love. He'd already bounced right back by evening and was all smiles and giggles for Papa. In fact, by early evening he seemed completely unfazed by the whole ordeal. Clearly, we were more traumatized than he was! He still cracks me up. He's still so snuggly. He's still our Ezra. And for that, I didn't want or need that burden anymore.
The wound will heal. We'll get use to the gap. None of this is permanent. W says it just makes him more like a big boy now, which I'm not too keen on, but guess I have to face the fact that he
is growing up.
And I also have to face that not only is Ezra a boy, but he is a
Swenson boy. I'd heard all of W and his brothers' horror stories before--I knew what I was getting myself and our future boys into when I married. ;) Ezra's cousin, Daniel, has already had his front tooth extracted. So, why was I so surprised?
As Uncle John said to W, "Ezra, welcome to the Toothless Club!!!"
