Restoring Connection With Life & Thriving
Santa, The Tooth Fairy & Restoring Connection
“Is Santa real?”, “Are you Santa?”, our 10 yr. old son Teddy had been asking my husband and me off and on since last Christmas. We would find ways to dodge the question without lying, saying things like “Santa is really the spirit of giving, so when each of us gives somebody something, we’re being Santa too”. Then we’d privately discuss if he indeed wanted to know just yet. More than once we decided for various reasons that he truly still wanted to believe.
This summer he confessed he knew what the real deal was and had for a while, but was afraid to tell us, because it meant Santa wouldn’t come any more. During this discussion it was revealed that I’m Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, because on the nights they’d been traditionally coming to our house and magically leaving their gifts, his Dad was away playing professional music gigs. Assuring Teddy I would continue to be all of them to him for as long as he wanted, even though he now knew the truth, a big smile of relief spread across his face.
Then in mid-November he lost a back molar tooth. When he told me his story of how he lost his tooth I thought about his big wish list, for which he’d been saving money. So I said to him, “well I guess the tooth fairy’s gonna be coming tonight.” He lit up and replied, “really?!”, quickly entering that land of make believe with me once again, wherein we agreed that since it was a larger tooth it made sense for the tooth fairy to leave more money.
That night as he went to bed, he expectantly left his tooth in a little bag under his pillow, trusting the tooth fairy would come.
The next morning he stormed into our room, incensed that the tooth fairy hadn’t visited him. Once I woke up enough to realize my miserable failure, I apologized profusely. But he wasn’t having any of it, and ran out of our room as if he couldn't get away from me fast enough.
I quickly threw on my terry cloth robe and ran down the stairs after him, watching as he naturally slipped into his place at the kitchen counter where I routinely serve him breakfast.
As I caught up with him and now stood in the kitchen looking at him across the counter, in a feeble attempt to keep myself from feeling like a loser Mom, my mind raced with reasons why the tooth fairy had forgotten to come. As I dismissed each excuse as being too lame to utter, I was left with nothing to say except “I’m really sorry”, yet again.
As my apology was met with what felt like an eternity of silence, I stood there thinking “this tooth fairy and Mom is undeniably fallibly human right now”. Snippets of Dan Hughes’ book Attachment-Focused Parenting popped into my mind. Remembering these gave me hope that Teddy & I would find a way to repair this rupture in our relationship together.
Then he suddenly covered his face with his hands. When he unexpectedly did this, I knew darn well Teddy wasn’t doing so because my hair was sticking out all over, I had sleep-crusted eyes, my bathrobe was askew and I was therefore a ghastly sight, impossible to behold.
I remembered a psychology study on attachment wherein the mother and her baby boy were playing together. The boy got overly excited and accidentally played rough. The mom reflexively got irritated. Having his exuberance squashed, her son covered his face.
I understood that although Teddy was almost 11, that’s what he was now doing. I also remembered the mother slowly reengaging her son, allowing him time to recover, start to feel safe again and finally resume playing with her. So I decided to just hang out with Teddy, sensing where he was, being as emotionally attuned as possible and allowing it to unfold.
I gently said “sweetheart I can understand you feeling really angry at me right now; I didn’t come through for you”. From behind his hands, in a choked up voice he said “Mom I’m not angry, I feel really sad”. I sighed with heart-sick understanding. “Yeah, of course you do. I’ve really hurt your feelings by disappointing you like this”, I responded. And then offered yet another apology.
He said “I know you feel bad about this Mom, but I just don’t feel ready to accept your apology”. So I said, “that’s OK, Ted. Take your time and wait until you’re ready”.
As he continued to sit there with his hands covering his face he indignantly declared “I’m not your favorite pig!”. (His nickname is Piglet, and I had affectionately told him he was my favorite pig the night before.) After taking that in, I gingerly offered “well there’s an old saying: ‘actions speak louder than words’. And by forgetting to put money under your pillow I didn’t act like you were my favorite pig. So I can understand why you’re feeling like you’re not, even though in my heart you are”.
After taking a deep breath, I continued,“I can give you the $10 now, or you can put your tooth back under your pillow tonight and give the tooth fairy another chance to come. I know you’d be risking possibly being disappointed again, but it’s up to you as to what you’d rather me do.... You don’t have to decide now. You can take a while to think about it.” After a long pause he said “I’ll think about it”.
Then I came out from behind the kitchen counter and sat in what the family considers to be my rocking chair, intentionally positioning it diagonally to him, not facing him. I didn’t want to put him into sensory overload by forcing him to look at me until he was ready. So I just sat there & rocked, looking out the window.
Slouched down in the counter stool he started spinning himself around while alternating between hiding behind the stool’s back spindles & showing his face through the openings in-between. Eventually he sat up and said, “well, I’ll be able to take my tooth to school today and show it to people. I had wanted to lose it at school so I could show it to everybody, but I didn’t. So now I can take it and show it today.”
With his sharing of this realization I knew a corner had been turned, further demonstrated by him becoming more conversational with me. This continued while we chatted off and on in the car as I drove him to his school bus stop, slowly restoring our connection.
When Teddy came home from school he told me he wanted the $10. I said “oh, so you want me to give it to you now, instead of putting your tooth under your pillow again?” “Yes”, he said matter of factly, “you told me how much it was, so you ruined the surprise.” Getting how I’d disappointed him in yet another way I said “WOW! I really blew this one all the way around, didn’t I?!!” He agreed, and I then gave him a $10 bill.
That night, right before going to bed, he placed the $10 bill on my dresser. After he fell asleep, when I peeped into his room and noticed the bag with his tooth in it sticking out from under his pillow, I had such an overwhelming sense of love well up inside of me. He was daring to hope I’d come through for him this time!
Really early the next morning he excitedly rushed into our room & ran to my side of the bed. Still half asleep I opened up the quilt and he crawled in beside me. He snuggled up and affectionately said “You came”. I gratefully replied, “You gave me another chance”. “You needed to do it right Mom”, he definitively said. “Yes I did”, I confirmed, knowing full well I needed to “do it right”, for him and for me. I needed to “do it right” for us.
After some moments of precious silent connection I asked, “How did you sleep?”. He answered, “I went to sleep fine, but then I woke up later and felt under my pillow. When I knew that it (the $) was there, I went back to sleep with a smile on my face”.
And in that sublime moment, the tooth fairy who had fallen to earth, noticed the wings of her heart were fluttering with joy.
Written December 2009
That night, right before going to bed, he placed the $10 bill on my dresser. After he fell asleep, when I peeped into his room and noticed the bag with his tooth in it sticking out from under his pillow, I had such an overwhelming sense of love well up inside of me. He was daring to hope I’d come through for him this time!
Really early the next morning he excitedly rushed into our room & ran to my side of the bed. Still half asleep I opened up the quilt and he crawled in beside me. He snuggled up and affectionately said “You came”. I gratefully replied, “You gave me another chance”. “You needed to do it right Mom”, he definitively said. “Yes I did”, I confirmed, knowing full well I needed to “do it right”, for him and for me. I needed to “do it right” for us.
After some moments of precious silent connection I asked, “How did you sleep?”. He answered, “I went to sleep fine, but then I woke up later and felt under my pillow. When I knew that it (the $) was there, I went back to sleep with a smile on my face”.
And in that sublime moment, the tooth fairy who had fallen to earth, noticed the wings of her heart were fluttering with joy.
Written December 2009