Wiggly Tooth

My baby boy is almost six years old. He wakes up with a smile to go to kindergarten, early in the morning, with the older kids. He loves break-dancing class. He comes home from school and turns on his iPod so loud I can hear it all the way from the kitchen, while I smile as I imagine him twist and bend with the music, releasing the energy he had to contain in the classroom.

When he thinks I don’t see him, he babbles in Arabic to his toys or daydreams on his swing–he could be in a Caribbean beach and not in his room. El Cangri ALWAYS has something nice to say about everybody. He would tell me how pretty I look first thing in the morning, and I know his words come from the heart. No other than a child would say that to me 🙂

I’ve wondered if being positive increases his self-confidence or if his self-confidence helps him be positive. I wish I were more like him in that respect, see the bright side of things.

In his cave-man talk he said last night, “One of my teeth will come out soon.” And his eyes sparkled with pride and maybe a tinge of fear.

He’s my third child. I should be used to this kind of event. Still, emotion surprised me as I verified that yes, he has a loose tooth. So many months waiting for tiny teeth to finally cut through and end the agony of teething–my boys had always the hardest time while teething–and then one day, without notice, they become wiggly and fall off.

My Cangri is growing. So fast I don’t even want to blink in case I miss all the wonder that he is. But every night, at about two, muffled footsteps by my bedroom door, take my attention from even the most fascinating book or dream. He snuggles close to me and says, “I love you, mama.”

He’s still my baby. My precious third child, so glad to grow up.

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