Tooth Fairy: MIA and ADHD

My two daughters have known me their whole lives. That’s longer than I’ve been pursuing various protocols for my AD(H)D by more than a decade. I say “pursuing various protocols” because not only do I love medical language, but because I don’t want anyone thinking I’m just all about the meds. Beside the point. Sorry.

Lily the Labradoodle, at almost 6 months is loosing her baby teeth and yesterday, we were wondering where all these teeth go. Does the swallow them? When I am luxury vacuuming with my Miele do little canine teeth get sucked up without me noticing? As we were considering this, looking around my well vacuumed floor, Husband found one of these little chiclets embedded in the stuffing from a toy that Lily the Labradoodle had just disemboweled. Although Lily is a dog, she thinks she is a wolf. Since she is such a fluff muffin, she was given the nickname, “Wolfkinz.” Her tooth doesn’t look human; it resembles a shark’s tooth, but it was still very cute in a tiny, vicious way. My husband put it in his pocket.

This morning I asked Lily , “So did the tooth fairy come to visit you last night?” as I rubbed her fluffy head. I was kidding around, of course, I don’t REALLY talk to the family dog as if she’s a person, I just do this to amuse my family. I NEVER talk to Lily when we are alone and there is no human audience. And I didn’t really think the tooth fairy had come. The tooth fairy has been passing over our house for years! Just ask my daughters.

Well, here’s what they’d tell you. I know because this is how they reacted when they heard me this morning: You would have thought I had asked Lily if she would mind if I spent Daughter 1 and 2′s entire clothing allowances and college funds on a lifetime supply of Lily’s favorite Himalayan Dog Chews lovingly made by the Nepalese from yak milk.

Daughter 2′s head peaked up from the side of the sofa, “The tooth fairy owes me, like, $500!”

Daughter 1, added, “Remember when I waited, like, 3 months for the tooth fairy to come, and you kept telling me that she ran out of money, or that she doesn’t come out in the rain? I HATE THE TOOTH FAIRY!”

Such venom!

Lily is the first of my charges to enjoy spending her most formative years with a correctly diagnosed and medicated mommy. I blew the whole tooth fairy gig like you wouldn’t believe with Daughter 1 and 2. It took all of my limited smoke and mirror skills to keep that jolly old elf, Santa, with the program. Might I add that Santa at least had the good form to come at the same time only once a year. I’m sure little miss generosity was conceived with the best of intentions, “back in the day,” when ye old little ones would get excited about a half pence or an orange slice.

But invariably baby teeth pop out late in the day, and usually when husband is out of town. Pennies and fruit won’t get it anymore; these kids expect cash, as in bills, because us moronic parents started upping the payout. Get dressed, go to ATM, then CVS to obtain acceptable change for twenties buy purchasing pack of gum and several gratuitous hair products. Diagnosed, medicated, or not, I consider the tooth fairy to be odious and unecessary.

As Daughter 1 and 2 witness the “new” me buzzing around cleaning, cooking, making lists and then using them, they know they have witnessed something amazing. But I’m sensing when it comes to the perceived lavishness bestowed on Lily, they feel something like a Hippie who was just a little too old for Woodstock. I look at them and remember my pride at making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and then actually being sure they left the house with brown paper bags with their names written on them clutched in their little fists. I also remember rolling my eyes whenever they inquired about the tooth fairy’s whereabouts.

So, I responded by telling them the truth. I said that even though I wish I had been better at all that perfect mommy stuff when they were little, I didn’t think I did too badly; and that for the record, I still think this tooth fairy business is bunk. And I give them full permission to bring on the verbal abuse if I even mention having Her Royal Pain in the Mouth Fairiness visit Lily the Labradoodle. (I will however, still buy Lily Himalayan dog chews on true special occasions, like Christmas – not for something as ridiculous sounding as National Dress up Your Pet Day, coming up on January 14)

If you are inclined to fully grasp the expectations and spirit of all things tooth fairy, or just want to avoid messing things up to the same degree I did, you can read here. As with anything with more than two steps, I see it as nothing more than an attempt by true Type A mothers to assert their superiority over, and suppress the underclass and creative spirit of the ADHD.

My prayer on this New Year’s Day is that this is the most serious issue my daughters are discussing with their own therapists in another decade or two.

*Rotten Tooth Fairy photo courtesy of cartercomics.com