Rite of passage (part 2)

He was eating cheese ravioli at Valentini's. Mid-bite, he reached into his mouth. "Mom! Look," he said, proudly pulling out the small white tooth.

No pain. No tears. And the fresh gap in my son's mouth didn't deter him from finishing his ravioli or enjoying a piece of birthday cake.

Grandma Diane's birthday dinner was enhanced. Tooth in hand, we walked slowly around the table and showed all of the aunts, uncles and cousins -- as well as the waitress.

I carefully slipped the tooth into a zippered pocket in my purse. When we got home, his dad helped him put the tooth into an envelope and place it under his pillow.

Sometime during the night, the tooth fairy came. She took the tooth and left behind a $1 bill.

An excellent story

My husband recently introduced my son and me to Mary Norton's 1952 classic, "The Borrowers."

The first book in a series about a family of little people who "borrow" things from "human beans" was one of his favorites as a child. It quickly has became one of ours.

In "The Borrowers," we are introduced to young Arrietty Clock, her father Pod and mother Homily. The Clocks live under the floorboards near -- what else? -- the grandfather clock.

The drama builds when Pod gets "seen" by a boy upstairs. The Clocks decide it's important to teach their 14-year-old daughter about the ways of borrowers and the world above. But Arrietty defies the protocals of being a borrower and actually develops a relationship with the human boy upstairs.

"Just get out of there," my son, unable to stand the suspense, cried out as I read about the first time Arrietty was seen. His alarm and relief at key moments of discovery and resolution were visible as we read the book.

Some other good books we recently brought home from the library:

• One Tiny Turtle (Nicola Davies)
• Big Blue Whale (Nicola Davies)
• Mouse Soup (Arnold Lobel)
• Duck Soup (Jackie Urbanovic)
  

My sentiments exactly

An incident occurred today.

It certainly wasn't of the caliber or scope of the Vietnam War, but it called to mind lyrics from Neil Young's and Stephen Stills' anti-war anthem, "For What It's Worth."

"You step out of line, the man come and take you away."

A respite

My son and I spent a couple of days at Cragun's Resort in Brainerd.

We accompanied my husband, who was there to coach his Knowledge Bowl team in the state finals. (They finished with fifth-place medals and an invitation to the nationals.)

Meanwhile, my son rode his bike outside for the first time along a lakeside path that leads to the beach playground and outdoor swimming pool. We explored the grounds, swung on the swings, walked out on the dock, and collected snail shells and acorns. In the evening, we swam and "played shark" in the indoor swimming pool, checked out the hot tub and watched a little of Casper on TV.




Even though my husband was busy, we had plenty of company. My son and I drove there with my exercise buddy whose son is on the team. And we hung out with two children and a friend whose wife was a judge.

It was a fun and relaxing break -- except for the wood tick I found crawling on my ankle.

Rite of passage

My son and I discovered this week that his bottom front tooth is loose.

He's a little bit anxious about the prospect of losing his first tooth. Is it going to hurt? How will his new tooth arrive? What happens if it falls out when he's in ___ (insert just about any place here)?

He's also very excited. His loose tooth puts him in the competition with fellow preschoolers who have lost or are losing their teeth. And there's the wondering about what the tooth fairy will bring.

I have started doing some research on the matter. From some other moms I learned that the tooth fairy still leaves coins -- anything from quarters to gold dollars. And she's gotten messier than when I was a kid, sometimes leaving behind a trail of fairy dust.

I also learned that, according to Parents magazine, for many children, loosing a tooth is a bigger milestone than learning to read, write or ride a bike. I can believe that. At least once a week I hear a report from my son about another friend who has lost a tooth.

As with most of my son's milestones, I'm not ready for this rite of passage. "I'm not going to be your little boy anymore," my son said. "Now, I'll be your big boy."

Way cool

It happens every year.

Some birds think our porch posts would make a nice nesting spot.

They usually begin building on the post that's closest to our front door, then quickly abandon that nest and move to the other post. Eventually they abandon that nest too and end up on our neighbor's porch, which is longer, offers better shelter from the wind and receives less traffic.

I first noticed a mess of dried grass and dirt that had fallen onto our porch steps. My eyes proceeded upward to see dried grass and twigs hanging precariously from the post. Looking toward the other post, I spied a more developed nest. I showed my son, took some photos, then left things alone for a few days.


When I was certain the birds had moved on to more secure accommodations, I asked my husband to take down the nests. Our son was convinced they would be good to take to preschool on his sharing day.

We put the more developed nest into a plastic container so he could show it to his classmates.

It was a hit. The kids thought it was "really cool" and smelled "kind of gross."

Bread of affliction

On the 6th day of Passover, one begins to get creative about what one puts on matzoh:

• Charoset
• Horseradish
• Fake butter
• Egg salad (made from boiled eggs left over from first-night seder)
• Peanut butter and jelly
• Hummus

Beaming with pride

I read to my son's preschool class this week.

My son and I selected one of his current library books, "Big Wolf and Little Wolf," a selection we had to renew because he likes it so much.

Earlier that morning, he had me read the book to him. He coached me on just how I should hold the book so that his classmates would be able to see all of the pictures. Midway through, he told me I could stop practicing holding up the book and just read to him. Apparently, I'm a quick learner.

When we arrived at school, the students excitedly gathered around me in a circle on the floor. I talked a little bit about why we chose the book and made a plug for the Duluth Public Library. Then I proceeded to read the story.

Absorbed in reading, showing the pictures so everyone could see them, answering the children's questions and responding to their comments about what was happening in the book, I didn't have much of a chance to monitor my son's reactions.

When I finally did, I was startled to see a big smile and a face beaming with pride.