I remember when her first tooth came in. Although I was elated at this new milestone, I thought to myself that I wished I’d studied her face a little longer before her gummy smile changed forever. I knew in that moment that she would never look the same as she did the day before. Fast forward almost exactly 6 years later (a few weeks shy) and I experienced the same feeling in my gut. After months (and months and months, seriously, and months) of a wiggly front tooth, it finally fell out. And in the evening of her last day of school, so none of her friends got to see it. But we did. She wiggled and twisted and it fell out. And she squealed and jumped and has never looked so happy. An we celebrated with her. And we snapped pictures. And then we made plans to tuck it under her pillow for a visit from the tooth fairy – who, by the way, must have come into some money since I was a kid. No more quarters under the pillow. Anyway, all the while, I was staring at her new face, knowing, once again that she would never look exactly as she did just minutes before. And although I was thrilled for her, I was already feeling nostalgic for the face I’ve been in love with for almost 6 years. But not sad enough to not enjoy the new, beautiful, more grown up face was looking back at me. An awesome and brand new face to adore. I can do this.