Gavin has lost his first tooth. It has been a harrowing experience for him. When he first showed me that his tooth was loose, he was very worried about it. So concerned, in fact, that his eyes filled up with tears at the thought of not having that particular tooth in his mouth anymore. I reassured him that he would get another, bigger better tooth in its place that would last for the rest of his life, as long as he brushes it before bed every night. He still sat there, wiggling his tooth with his finger, quietly fretting and ruminating on what I had told him. Finally he said, his voice cracking with despair, "But if I never get a new tooth, I will be a silly adult!"

To lose a piece of yourself, I guess, is a little scary.  I guess that's why someone came up with the idea of the tooth fairy? She's a great diversion from the trauma of the extraction, but for Gavin that idea only added to his anxiety. When we put him to bed that night, he couldn't shut his eyes. He said he was worried about the Tooth Fairy, how she would get in, what she would look like, etc. I stayed in the room on the bottom bunk that night with Garrett, listening to Gavin toss and turn anxiously above us, constantly checking under his pillow to make sure the tooth was still there, until he finally fell asleep.

At some point in the night the tooth fairy did slink into the room and do her duty. She was so quiet even I missed her appearance. In the morning, I was already up and sitting at my computer when Gavin came out with an unsettled look on his face. He paced back and forth in the office in front of me, as he normally does when he has a deep thought.
Finally I asked him "Did the Tooth Fairy come last night?"
He looked in the direction of his bedroom and nodded, his tongue feeling the blank space on the  front of his grill.
"Did she take your tooth?"
"Yes," he stated with tear filled brown eyes. I hugged him and asked "Well, did she leave anything else under your pillow?"
"Two things," he whispered. "I didn't touch them."
I went into his room and retrieved the objects: A shiny 50 cent piece and a little pink thank you note. I handed them to Gavin and he held them cautiously. Eventually he sat on the couch and read the note, which praised him on the excellent condition of the outgoing tooth, and reminded him that soon he would have a new one to care for. After studying the note and the coin for a while, he simply commented that he "Never saw a penny this big before" and plunked it in his piggy bank, and that was that. Losing a tooth is not as bad as it seems, I guess.

I took the boys to see 'Where the Wild Things Are'. It was a bad idea. It turned out to be way too scary for Gavin. I was more worried about Garrett, being the younger bro. The shaky camera shots, loud booming bass, and the dark undertone proved too much for Gavin's senses. He has autism, but he can handle certain situations a lot better than others. This event fell into the "others" category.

He was uneasy from the very beginning, before Max even reached the place where the wild things lived! I felt bad for him, but I wanted him to try to tough it out. He had been so excited about going to see this movie. We had watched the trailer on YouTube about a thousand times (which, by the way, barely hints at how dark and scary 75% of the movie really is) and I was sure Gavin would be fine. He wasn't fine. He clung to me like a spider monkey, his eyes wide and watery, nervously munching popcorn and asking me if there would be any more scary parts. He would say "Daddy, if there another scary part, I will never watch it!" Then, inevitably something "scary" would happen on the screen causing him to shout out "I will never watch this! I have to get out of town right now!" He was very concerned that those huge monsters might try to eat Max, which was a valid concern since that subject does come up in the book.

"Daddy, are they going to eat him up?"

"No Gav. Remember in the book he goes home to his mom and has a warm supper?"

"Okay. I will shut my eyes for the scary part," he said nervously.

Garrett was the complete opposite. He barely seemed to notice the movie at all. It was just a side show to his main event: Skittles. He has an incredible sweet tooth, and after I gave him that giant box of Skittles nothing else mattered to him. He sat in his seat slowly savoring each single Skittle, one at a time. He goes into a trance-like state when eating anything like candy or cake. In the dark of the theater, he couldn't distinguish the colors of the candy so he frequently had to ask me. It was pretty cute. His little hand would hold each piece up to me and he would whisper "Daddy, what color is this skiggle?" I had to reply "I can't see it either. Taste it to find out." So he would pop it in his mouth, then about thirty seconds later he would say "It tasted purple."

We made it nearly to the end of the movie. I really wanted Gavin to see the end, because Max does make it home safe and sound. I wanted Gavin to at least see that it was all okay in the end. However, just as Max is leaving the island to escape the monsters, he is forced to crawl into one of the (friendly) monster's mouths to escape the others - very freaky. That was the "over the top" moment for poor Gavin. He jumped out of his seat and yelped in a shaky voice "I will not stay here! I have to get out of town right now!" So he started down the dark theater steps toward the exit, and I turned to Garrett who was by now fast asleep, his tiny hand still stuffed inside the huge "Skiggle" box. I  plucked him from his seat and we made our way down the steps. Gavin was at the bottom waiting for us, his face a portrait of terror. "This is not a good movie! I will tell mama it was not for kids! I am angry at mama!" I heard chuckles from several of the other theater patrons. Gavin is always very forthright and blunt with what's on his mind. I'm glad he can express his emotions like that, especially in a high stress situation. He used to just scream and completely melt down. To me, that's another milestone.

So in the end, we escaped the monsters, nobody was eaten. Unfortunately for Gavin, the experience was absolutely spine-chilling. His greatest fears for Max actually came true. To him, the movie ended when Max was sitting inside the monster. I still want him to see how it really ends. I guess we'll get the DVD when it comes out.

The only real victim of consumption was the box of Skittles, as evidenced by the rainbow of colors all over Garrett's sticky face.

"I thought the movie was really fun," he said enthusiastically.

"What was your favorite part, Garrett?" I asked.

He looked at me like I had two heads. "The skiggles, Daddy."

Yes, we cut Gavin's hair! He is growing up. He has started kindergarten and the party is over. Does he miss his long, wavy mane? Well, judging by the photos, one might think so. In exhibit A: He looks looks like some mischievous kid who may have just cut class to sneak into a Backyardigans concert. In mugshot, er, exhibit B: He looks like a common five year old, mired by the humdrum, wearisome duties of Kindergarten life. He looks 3 years older to me as well.

The truth is that he loves his new haircut. He was excited, although hesitant, when we breached the subject with him before we went to the kids' barber. It is a big milestone for him! He's been a little boy with long hair for as far back as he can remember. The actual cutting wasn't too scary, even for a boy with autism. He sat still, stiff as a board, cringing the whole time with his face contorted in a mixture of fear and excitement. There were no tears. He watched his long locks falling to the floor through little slits in his tightly scrunched eyelids. After about twenty minutes, the transformation was complete.

The first few hours post-haircut, he did express some "barbershop remorse". I asked him if he wanted his long hair back, and he said "Yes, can we put it back on?"
I said "No, it takes a long time to grow."
He said "Like the grass?"
"Well, yeah. Kinda."

However, by the next morning he was completely enamored with his new look. He leapt out of bed and ran to the mirror, just beaming and giggling. I guess he had to see if it had all been a dream! The haircut was still there, and it hadn't changed his sparkling, buoyant personality a bit.

Now he (and Garrett) both refer to their hair as "haircuts". For example, "Garrett hurt me on my haircut!" It makes sense, I suppose, since Gavin just had hair before. Now he has a haircut.