Phoebe kind of listens...and Zoë gets some teeth pulled

Yesterday Zoë got four teeth pulled (more of that below with—fair warning—perhaps some icky pictures). I spent a quiet evening at home with Zoë, Alexander, and Phoebe, while Andrew took Miriam and Benjamin to an extra youth activity (our ward tends to be...understaffed and under-enthusiastic while this other ward in our building is...less that way...and we appreciate them inviting our handful of youth to join in fun activities with their dozens of youth). 

When they came home, we were all upstairs in my bedroom for some reason. 

I think, actually, that I had been trying to read an article. Phoebe was playing with the marble run. And Alexander and Zoë had been playing outside with a friend (walking kick the can, since Zoë wasn't really supposed to be running around) but they came inside because it was dark and...time for bed. 

So we all ended up being in my bedroom when Daddy and the other kids came home, so then they all came home and we had scriptures and prayer sprawled out all over the bedroom.

Phoebe was having trouble transitioning away from the marble run. 

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

"Phoebe, time to stop." 

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

"Phoebe—for real. You've got to stop playing for a minute."

"Okay, okay," she said. "I'm almost finished."

Plink.

Plink. 

Plink.

She continued to drop marbles down the chute. 

Plink.

"Phoebe—that's so loud. It is time to stop."

Plink.

She sighed. She paused. We held our breath.

Silence.

.

.

.

.

"Alright," Andrew said. "We're going to..."

Plink. 

"There!" Phoebe said. "Now I'm finished!"

*****

And when Andrew jokingly asked who was going to stay in their own bed all night long, everyone raised their hands and said, "Me! I am!"

But Phoebe was a little less certain. "Maybe me," she said. "We'll see."

(Spoiler: She did stay in her bed all night!)

*****

I took Phoebe, Alexander, and Zoë to the dentist on Tuesday. Miriam came to sit in the waiting room with...whoever...while I was having my turn in the dentist's chair. Andrew will take Miriam and Benjamin next week. Rachel has an appointment over Christmas break (when she comes out to visit). 

Alexander had the start of a teensy cavity on one of his molars that they fixed up—without even needing to give him a shot, so it was really pretty minor. The rest of us were the picture of health!

Zoë had a little recommendation letter from the orthodontist to remove four of her baby teeth that had been loose for eons, but were still somehow holding fast, and which they felt were impeding her adult teeth from erupting, all of which was ultimately getting in the way of plans for braces. She'll likely need a palate expander for her narrow mouth. And we know she has a cross-bite that the orthodontist is looking to fix. 

The dentist agreed that those baby teeth could go...and said that she just happened to have an appointment available the very next day. So we took the appointment. 

Zoë was nervous, but I thought it was better this way. Poor Miriam had her dental surgery postponed a number of times so she had to think about her impending tooth yanking for months before it finally happened. Zoë had to wait less than 24 hours. 

Much better for anxiety. 

Andrew took her in on Wednesday because I had some meetings in the afternoon, and she did great! She was rather sore and upset when she walked in the front door. 

"I want my tooth fairy money," she growled. 

But she got back to her chipper self soon enough. When I came down to dinner (after all my meetings ended), Zoë and Alexander were still working away at their plates of food (Andrew, Benjamin, and Miriam had left around 5:45 to get to the church an hour early so Miriam could practice the organ, but I had a meeting until 6:00, so they aimed to eat dinner at 5:00...and somehow Zoë and Alexander were both still eating...while Phoebe had gone off to play).

"Well, I was going to suggest we go for a walk before I eat dinner," I said. "But since you're still here and the food's still out, I will just eat now and then we can go for a walk."

So I sat down to have some dinner while Zoë and Benjamin finished theirs. 

Zoë took a sip of water, then pumped her fists in the air. 

"Yes!" she cried triumphantly. "I'm not dumb anymore!"

"What?" I asked.

"My mouth! It's not...oh...I said dumb, didn't I?"

She dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"I'm not numb anymore. It was so weird. When I was drinking the water felt cold on one side of my mouth but warm on the other side. Dad said it was because on one side the nerves were sending messages to my brain about the temperature of the water and the other side they weren't. But now they are! I'm not numb anymore! My mouth is still not cooperating!"

Here she is on our gentle walk (she's not supposed to be too wild until after she's healed up a bit—she also wanted a picture of the inside of her mouth, so just to warn you...that's coming up after this one):

Here she is showing the inside of her mouth:

She left a letter for the tooth fairy asking if she could keep her teeth (which the dentist already told her she could—they sent her home with her teeth packed up in little tooth-shaped containers):

She drew a vampire and used her teeth as the vampire's teeth.

The tooth fairy was okay with letting her keep her teeth and even gave her an extra dollar for all the hassle Zoë went through to lose those teeth (the going rate around these parts is $1 per tooth, but as you see here she got $5 for four teeth, so she's basically rich).