Mark and I are each a little sad when our children change, because it means they are growing up. While we want them to grow and are happy that they are, it's hard not to mourn a little for that time of their life, since childhood is already so fleeting. Mark dislikes when the babies get teeth, because it sort of marks the end of the infant look. My lament is when they lose their first teeth, in particular the two front teeth. I think it's because they lose the little kid look forever- no longer the innocent Peter Pan stage of life (even though they're really still innocent).
When Katrina told me that her front teeth were loose, I had to take a picture, even though it was a rushed one before we had a chance to do something with the Bed Head Affliction we face each morning:
She was excited to lose her teeth, and it didn't take long. One Sunday night she came down so excited to be missing one; suddenly having a hard time with the letter S.
Snaggletoothed Bean, albeit with leftover cold sores from a particularly difficult week.
She lost the second of the pair about ten days after the first, and was delighted to be symmetrical again. They came out with little fuss and we forget sometimes that she's missing them. I guess it's better than my arrangement: I was in 3rd grade and had loose teeth for a very long time, which were stubbornly refusing to come out. Many offered to pull them for me, but I declined until the siren song of floral scented scratch 'n sniff stickers were put up in exchange for the thrill of the pull (with pliers!!). I agreed, since the Puller was my older sister and I'd been coveting those stickers for awhile. I guess it must not have been quite the right time though; it was months before the new ones grew in. I sure heard "All I Want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth" a lot that winter. In any case, I definitely was NOT as cute as this little girl is: