We had a 6-year-old crisis this morning. I was packing for my brother’s wedding in Mexico chatting on the phone with my mom, when my daughter came in with big crocodile tears telling me she had lost her tooth. And not like, lost it from her head, but lost it from the little sparkly plastic tooth holder the tooth fairy had let her keep it in when she left her the five bucks a couple weeks ago. (I know, our tooth fairy is very new age. She leaves the money and the tooth.)
It’s been over a week of being sick. Not just me, but my 6-year-old daughter too. Snarfly, snotty, sneezy sick. The kind that makes people look at you and then take two giant steps back.
We’ve been making it on our own one day and one tissue at a time. My husband is away in Texas while his grandfather slowly makes the transition out of his body and back into the Oneness. And honestly, things have felt hard.