As I mentioned last night, Iz now has a on-going letter correspondence with the Tooth Fairy. I don't remember writing this many letters to the Tooth Fairy when I was her age. (Of course, Iz has her Dad's "go get 'em" attitude instead of my "okay, whatever" attitude, which is a very good thing indeed.) In hindsight, I think that if I had written as much to the Tooth Fairy as Iz, my already frazzled-with-three-kids parents might have told me the Tooth Fairy didn't exist sooner rather than later!
So, now in addition to trying to get my creative writing going here again on my blog, I am also trying to sustain a hard copy blog with my daughter. In a way, the hard copy blog is a bit more fun. It's interactive with daily comments from my only little "follower."
In another way, it gives me a chance to pretend. I haven't pretended in a long time, well, except for those times when I pretend that George Clooney gets stranded in Ayer due to a huge snow storm and has to come home with me. Finally, in a guilty parent way, it made me wonder if I was perhaps making Iz more fond of the Tooth Fairy and inviting a total crash-and-burn emotional situation when Iz eventually realized or was told that the Tooth Fairy was non-existent or only existed in me.
Well, surprise, surprise. My creative and pretend side won out over sensible parenting. And, I wouldn't have it any other way.
After Iz lost her tooth, she wrote a letter to the Tooth Fairy. She'd written a letter a few weeks ago, but the Tooth Fairy was too frazzled to write back. Anyway, since she had lost yet another tooth, the Tooth Fairy got her stuff together and replied Tuesday morning with:
Dear Iz,
I'm sorry I didn't write back sooner. I have been so busy!
Congratulations on losing another tooth. Take this money and buy something special with it.
You are a very smart and beautiful girl. I love you.
After reading the Tooth Fairy's response and pondering all 54 things she could do with $10, Iz said, "I'll have to write back." I grimaced a tad. Iz could not let the Tooth Fairy get the last word in nor would she accept that there wasn't more to glean from this correspondence.
On Tuesday night, Iz replied with:
Dear Tooth Fairy,
Thanks. I was wondering if you have anything special you wanted. Also, please make Monty back to life. I will do anything to make him back to life. Please write back.
P.S. Here is something. It's okay to take the stuff.
[ed. Iz left a random assortment of small toys with the note -- a Polly Pocket doll, a few clothes for Polly, and a few small plastic animals.]
On Wednesday morning, the Tooth Fairy replied with:
Dear Izzy,
You do not need to give me anything. I will always be here for you. No matter how much I would like to bring Monty back to you, I don't have the powers to do so.
I did talk to him the other day. He's in Heaven and has a wonderful girlfriend named Zelda. He is very happy, but he told me to tell you that he misses you a lot.
I love you.
Last night, Iz replied with:
Dear Tooth Fairy,
Wake me up please and show me where you work and can I have some powers? I'm begging you. How about you and the fairies put their magic together to make Monty back.
[ed. There's a heart here, and in it, it says, "You Rock."
P.S. You can really have these. [ed. She left the same toys again and this time included a $1 bill. I think she was testing the theory that "money talks even with the Tooth Fairy!"]
This morning, the Tooth Fairy responded with:
Dear Izzy,
No matter how much power we Fairies put together, we cannot bring someone like Monty or your Mom’s Mom (because I know she misses her terribly) back. It just cannot happen even with fairy dust.
I cannot take your things. You keep them. I cannot show you where I work either; magic is only magic because you have to believe in something you don't know.
You don’t need my powers, because you have powers of your own. What are those powers?
You are smart. You are kind. And, you are beautiful. Those are the only powers you need.
I love you.
When I got out of the shower this morning, Iz greeted me at the door. She said excitedly, "The Tooth Fairy wrote back to me!" I asked, "Oh, really?" By the way, can you get a Best Supporting Actress award for your life, which sometimes seems like a movie? If so, I deserve one.
I said, "Read me the letter!" She began to read. Then she stopped when I knew there was more.
She looked up at me and smiled. I asked, "Is there more?" and then I took the letter out of her hands; I began to read, "You don't need my powers...."
She had stopped at the part where the Tooth Fairy had lauded her. She was embarrassed to read about how wonderful she was, which made me happy that she was modest, but it also made me more determined to read to her how wonderful she was. As I read my own words to her, I realized that there was not just one smart, kind, and beautiful girl standing there.
I knew, like Iz's toothless smile, that I was not perfect. None of us are. But in that moment, I realized how important the Tooth Fairy blog had become to Iz and to me.
I had always told Iz what a great girl she was. But as I stood there reading, I also realized how important it is that I tell her that often. And being the Tooth Fairy not only made me feel special to Iz, it made me realize that I was special, too, and that the greatest power was the power to love yourself, especially when you didn't have a Mom or a Tooth Fairy to do so.
After I finished reading the letter, Iz blushed. She asked me, "Does she love me the best, Mom?" I laughed on the inside and on the outside I said quite seriously, "Yes, she does." Iz then said, "Oh, I'll have to write her back now!" and off she went. ♥
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