Tooth Trauma and where Drama Queens come from.

Brynn lost her first tooth! Not unexpectedly, this event not without drama. There were days of crying and wailing. Prayers. Clamped jaws. Wiggle sessions and ultimately, and the hands of dad, one big pull to free that little tooth.

The big tooth had already come in behind it, so the baby tooth really needed to come out, but the drama required to get it out was intense!

I was working in my office yesterday afternoon when I heard a scream that nearly tore the roof off the house. I bolted upstairs to find Brynn cradled in Chad's arms.

"what happened?!!?"

"Nothing. She was going to let me pull it out and then she freaked out."

I looked at Brynn, awash in tears and wide eye terror, and asked "Are you ok?"

Her response? She pitched her head back and aimed a long wail straight at the ceiling. Long. Loud. When she finally looked back at me she said "OH. MY. GOSH." Then buried her face in Chad's chest and wailed some more.

Ok, now, come on. A little bit of blood. A quick pain. Fear of the unknown. I get it. But seriously. The drama.

We were laying in bed last night and Chad asked me where I thought all the drama came from. I laughed and said let me tell you a little story. I repeat that story now, for you...

Once upon a time there was a little girl. She was in kindergarten. She sprained her ankle. It was truly sprained. It probably hurt when it happened, but she was 5 and 5 is still a quick healer. 5 rebounds. 

Yet, somehow this little ankle never seemed to heal. For weeks, the little girl hobbled around on her crutches. Weeks! Crying at the pain of a near broken foot. Begging to be carried. 

Finally, after weeks of babying her, listening to her cry, watching her hobble around on her tiny crutches, yet all the while suspecting nothing was actually wrong with her, the little girl's mother decided to take her back to the doctor. 

The doctor took one look at her and said her ankle is totally fine. Nothing wrong. 

Mother's suspicions were confirmed. Little girl had a serious case of the dramatic.

Sympathetically and with great concern, Doctor gives little girl some medicine. Take this medicine and by bedtime, Doctor promised, her foot would be completely healed.

Little girl reluctantly takes the medicine. Then proceeds to hobble on her little crutches on the long walk back to the car. Spectators offer to help the little girl's mother. They offer to carry the little girl. No, Mother says, little girl is fine. She will make it. 

Mother is sure people think she is cruel for making the little girl walk all the way back out to the car by herself. But mother reminds little girl that he medicine is working and by bedtime her foot will be healed. Little girl cries and bravely hobbles to the car. 

By bedtime, a medical miracle has occurred. Little girl's foot is completely healed! Her pain is gone! She doesn't need her crutches! Hooray for medicine!

When little girl grew up, Mother told her the story. Little girl asked what the medicine was. Benadryl,  mother told her. Magic Benadryl that healed her sprained ankle. Little girl laughed not quite believing mother that a 5 year old could really milk a sprained ankle for weeks. 

Then little girl grew up and had two 5 year olds of her own. And suddenly she believed that a 5 year old could milk a sprained ankle until her 10th birthday, if you let her. Where she had once thought it tricky and unkind of Mother and Doctor to trick her, she became a big believer in placebos! And bribery. 

And now assuming the role as mother, little girl took her own little girl in her arms, whispered a little prayer with her and then promised that if she would just let Daddy pop out the tooth, Mother would take little girl to the ice cream store tomorrow. And yes, she could get gummy bears on her ice cream.

And little girl opened her mouth. Daddy popped out the tooth and a proud tradition continued. 

And that Chad and friends, is why my daughters are so dramatic. It's genetic.