I am the tooth fairy. I mean actually, I have 80 teeth to fairy in my house and I have achieved the fairying of about 79% of them so I'm sure you will have no problem if I accept the title of The Tooth Fairy.
But it's actually a lie. I am, in truth, four very tired tooth fairies. Because of a shortsighted practice that I began somewhere around 8 years ago. I make up a tooth fairy for each kid. In detail. Personalities, names, outfits, genders, families, pets, communities, occupations... Each fairy has a different kind of paper that they write on with a different signature pen. And this, my friends, this is the hallmark of insanity. It's four Santa legends that I have to remember at random and wide intervals, whenever a tooth happens to make its exit from a mouth. Mercifully two kids have lost all of their teeth. One, even today, still clinging to the belief in the tooth fairy as evidenced by an emotional goodbye letter on the occasion of the final tooth.
Adorable as this all may seem, let me assure you, it is not at all adorable. It is chiefly unadorable when the specific pen runs out of ink or there are only pennies in the house so the fairy has to create and describe in detail some kind of fairy spell or machine based solution with which to transport, say, 100 pennies, noiselessly to a sleeping child's room. While we aren't Christmas people it has made me think about how much harder I have made this than Santa and maybe, just perhaps, if I had a Santa and an Easter bunny to let my kids fantasize about I wouldn't have taken this gig quite so far. But Hanukkah Harry or the little Jewish Elf on the Menorah Shelf that we made up last year just sort of fall flat. And so the tooth fairy is all that I have to delight and bring magic to my children's all too realistic lives.
And the thing is that I love it all so hopelessly much. When our youngest child just recently lost her first tooth she yelped, whooped, carried around her (2 page, 1 point font) tooth fairy letter and told everyone about her fairy named Glitter and all of Glitter's backstory (she's a glitter fairy with silver and gold wings who makes jewels and lives in a sparkling flower in case you hadn't guessed). The joy and wonderment was tangible. But my hand was cramped from forming the tiny golden glittery letters only legible through a looking glass.
I have forgotten tooth fairy names and data more than once. I have snuck into a room and scoured for an old tooth fairy note to be sure I had the right one. And it is for this reason that I would like to bring forward this recommendation. Have a family tooth fairy or just an anonymous tooth fairy. This individual one is for the birds especially once there are greater than "a couple" of kids to fairy. This extreme personalized approach is cute and exciting but wow does it get old. And the kids are still are looking around for Santa and an Easter bunny, this didn't assuage their desire for fantasy folks. I didn't think it through but it is actually hard to imagine a child saying "I don't care if Santa doesn't visit, I have my own tooth fairy".... but it seemed reasonable at the time, like all things seem at the time.
Alas, I've started down this adorable road and the cuteness must keep flowing for just 1.25 more mouths. I'm sure we can keep it going that long - I just re-upped my multicolored supply of glitter pens so it should be all good. Too late for us to change courses but... Lesson. Learned.