Yesterday, after a month of waiting and wiggling and equal parts elation and anxiety… Tegan lost her first tooth. It came off in her hand, as she sat twisting it in front of the bathroom mirror.

And proud of it.

Aside from thinking that she’s about the most adorable gap-toothed kid I have ever seen, I’m nearly drowning in the bittersweet milestones.  One by one, my baby (my last baby!) is ticking “firsts” off the list.   Yesterday, after the tooth had come out, we’d stopped the little bit of bleeding, and she’d come down off of the adrenaline rush that had her both crying and laughing for a good several minutes, we had the following conversation:

I am getting so big!!

You are.

I lost my tooth…

Yep.

I got my ears pierced…

You sure did.

I can climb the wiggly ladder at the park…

I know; it’s awesome.  You’re not going to want to start kissing boys soon are you?

Mommy EW!!!  GROSS.

She’s growing up.  But it appears we still have some time before we have to deal with boys and kissing, so I guess there’s that.  She did joke that we’ll probably have to take her shopping for a bra soon (she’s six), and with the speed at which her first six years have gone, “soon” is actually not too much of a misnomer.

Heaven help us.