Treasure

The three year old, ‘John Wayned’ out of nursery last week. Pockets stuffed full of toddler treasure. He empted them on to the kitchen table and proudly showed my partner when they got home 10 corks and 10 sparkly crystal ‘diamonds’.

‘You’ll have to take them back’ I nagged when I got home,

‘Cute little thieves like him are the reason, there’s no lego men left in my classroom!’

So after a suitably serious talk about stealing which involved him nodding a lot in a serious manner as I spoke about how sad all the children would be is they didn’t have things to play with a nursery, we returned the loot to the sunflower room, only to be told he was given them as a reward for counting them.

The six year old whilst being pleased for his brother and praising him in a voice that is (scarily) my own,

‘Well done! You did some good counting, didn’t you?!’

Also looked rather forlornly at the sticker on his school jumper and not so secretly wished for pockets full of his own treasure.

The little one’s said ‘treasure’ is now spread all over the house as he carries parts of it around with him constantly, but drops it just as easily. If I tread on another piece of see-through plastic with bare feet I may just scream! Then again maybe I should just add to the cork collection...

I went to his parent’s evening this week sitting on smaller chairs than even this primary school teacher is used to; I listened to what my little cutie’s day consists of - He’s doing fine, beginning to be happier, making friends and starting to chat more, eating everything.

I left with his file to peruse at my leisure and share with my partner.

Reading through his observations I came across this...

He knew his Daddy’s name but when asked about mine, he said,

‘She’s just called Mummy!’

And when asked about what we did he said,

‘Daddy works and Mummy just ‘doos’ everything!’

Yes, yes I do son, thanks for noticing!

Tooth Fairy Magic

This week I read on facebook about a friend’s child who swallowed their first loose tooth when it finally fell. It really made me laugh. What bad luck I thought to myself with a little smile on my face.

My own enamel-ly challenged six year old has spent the last two years yearning for a wobbly tooth, positively praying for a wobbly tooth, he has spent weeks willing the wobbly until...

Three weeks ago the inevitable happened – HIS TOOTH WOBBLED! He was way behind his now gummy friends but who cares, it had happened! It had finally happened he was on route to growing up, the tooth fairy’s pennies were on their way to him and soon he would be the proud owner of a gappy smile!

So we waited...

And we waited....

And we waited...

Every day slightly more wobble but no serious movement.

So much we began to forget about it.

Then tonight, after story time, my partner came down stairs a little flustered,

 ‘Can you deal with him?’ he asked, ‘He’s inconsolable!’

The tooth had finally fallen! Good news soon turned to desperation when we realised it had fallen down the plug hole.

What followed was tear-filled! Full of real sadness, this rite of passage was lost along with the tiny tooth.

After a barrage of cuddles from which he sobbed (and snotted) under we hatched a plan...

We crept downstairs to write the tooth fairy a note. She is tiny after all and full of magic fairy dust, she MUST be clever enough to find that tooth and still leave the money.

Sobbing subsided and he was keen to get to sleep immediately as he was sure she was on her way.

It amazed me how absolutely completely he believed...

I wasn’t going to contradict this one any more than I am likely to contradict the three year old who currently believes ‘Far Cris mas’ watches him through the smoke alarm.

My boys don’t often go to bed well or sleep easily so any help I can get I take!

Whatever I do tonight however many glasses of wine or however tired I am I must remember to leave the tooth fairy’s shiny pound coin and maybe even a little glitter note!

I’m not ready to spoil the magic yet!