At 4:05 as I was counting down the minutes until I could leave work,, my cell phone rang. I happened to have the earpiece in my ear so I didn't look to see who was calling before hitting the answer button. There are not many people who call me during working hours, so it was either my mom, who was taking care of a sick Cosette, or the daycare, who were taking care of a healthy Juliette, although of course if it was the daycare, that meant that Juliette was most likely not healthy.
It was the daycare.
"Hello, Mrs. Raising Mommy. Juliette is fine." They always say that, but if Juliette was fine, why would they be calling? On the other hand, it's better then any alternatives. "But she had a little accident."
She has had little accidents before. She trips, scrapes her knee, I get a phone call. So really, when I heard that, I was just relieved not to hear she had a fever. Those take longer to recover from then scrapes and bruises. It turns out that she was running around on the playground and tripped over her own two feet- something she does quite often. She usually bounces back up and exclaims "I'm OK!" and keeps on going. But apparently this time she split her lip open so it was gushing blood, which freaked her out, and...
"She chipped her tooth. But it isn't loose and the gum is fine. It's just a little chip."
A chipped tooth! That is not something that heals itself. That is a permanent scar, so to speak. Permanent until her baby teeth fall out, anyway. After establishing that my daughter was happily sucking away on a large popsicle and there was no need to run over to get her immediately, I hung up with the daycare and called the dentist. He told me not to worry about it unless the gum turned black (ewww).
An hour and a half later, after picking up Cosette, I arrive at the daycare. Juliette is playing with her friends, but as soon as she sees me she runs to me and bursts into tears. Why is is that when you are hurt or sad, seeing your mom makes you cry again? I hug her then ask to see her tooth. She tries to smile through the tears and the swollen lip, and manages to open her mouth enough for me to see it. And my heart catches in my throat. My beautiful girl has a ragged, jagged edge where her tooth broke. For, it is not merely chipped- it is broken. Saying that it is chipped is like saying the Niagara Falls is a little waterfall.
I know, I know- in the grand scheme of things it could be much much worse, but this is the first permanant scar that Juliette has. I know it is just a baby tooth, but every time she opens her mouth to talk or to smile, there it is. All of her pictures from now until that tooth falls out will reveal this little jagged imperfection. It's not that it looks bad- its that it is a constant reminder of how fragile she is, and how I can't protect her from everything, and how unpredictable life is.
So I am going to take her to the dentist next week and he will tell me to stop making a mountatin out of a molehill and just be happy I have such a beautiful daughter, and I'll nod and agree. And every time she is on a playground I'll worry. Cheesh; it isn't just the jungle gyms that are dangerous. If you can chip your tooth on a wood chip, imagine the injury you can do to yourself falling from the jungle gym? Man, I don't need that kind of worry in my head. Am I blowing this out of proportion? I'm sure the answer is yes. But I can't help it. Its the mommy in me.
