Every morning I get to wake up my daughter and get her ready for school, but often that’s the last time I see her until the next day. The other day, my wife took her out of school to go to the dentist (apparently the entire school became aware of this just after my daughter). Despite her initial boisterous objections, she did quite well at the dentist, and thanks to technology, I was able to share in the experience—my wife sent me an MMS of my daughter showing me her three loose teeth.
My baby. Losing her baby teeth. This. Isn’t. Cool.
But she’s excited, and she should be. No matter what I may wish, she will keep growing up. Certain things are inevitable.
Most nights I don’t come home until about 9:30, well after the little PalKid has gone off to sleep. But she knows that Tuesday nights belong to us. I come home early, and we either go out as a family, or I take her out to a little sushi place down the street. My schedule is regular enough, and she is rigid enough, that when there is a change, she knows it. A week or so ago, I took the morning off to be with her on a snow day. Her cousin slept over, and after making them Daddy Waffles, we suited up and went sledding on the front lawn, with its dangerous 2 degree slope. She couldn’t believe I was there to push her on the sled.
Every second with the kiddo is precious, from cuddling on the couch, to clipping her nails while she turns on the drama. So the other night when I went to pick her up at her little friend’s house and she begged me to let her sleep over, I wouldn’t let go.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home and cuddle?”
“Daddy, I want to sleep over! Pleeeeeease?”
The damned kid is losing her teeth, sleeping over at her friend’s house, and generally growing up like a normal kid. I guess I’m going to have to be OK with that. But the house sure was quiet the next morning.