“Soon to be a much-loved lifetime companion.” That’s the pitch I just got for a new “spunky, lovable” doll that is being marketed to parents of kids with wiggly teeth.
It reminds me of that great blog post by Bunmi Laditan, “I’m Done with Making My Kid’s Childhood Magical.” One of the burdens we put on ourselves is the idea that every part of childhood is so special it must be remarked upon, documented (of course!), gilded for the kid, and cherished forever by the parent.
It’s great to cherish childhood, but I’m talking about commodifying it, and dictating a particular emotion: NIN or “Nearly Instant Nostalgia” (yes, a phrase I just coined). (How fondly I remember the moments before I coined it!) Remember, parents: You must feel wistful about every phase your child passes through.
My BTFF My Best Tooth Fairy Friend, or BTFF for short, is soon to be a much-loved lifetime companion for kids and a captivating way for parents to be involved in one of their child’s most memorable experiences. BTFF is a spunky, lovable companion for children who are about to lose a tooth. Inside the gift box is everything parents need to create a lifetime of memories. It’s easy and fun for the whole family!
This adorable and naughty character was dreamed up by three parents and encourages children to use their imagination. The gift set comes complete with a handmade BTFF doll, a beautifully illustrated book, tooth vessel, keepsake notecards and sticker badges. BTFF magically appears at the first sign of a wiggly tooth and stays until the tooth comes out. When the tooth falls out, My BTFF takes it back to Tooth Fairy Land, leaving behind special notes and stickers. My BTFF comes back at the next sign of a loose tooth. Children get to name their BTFF, and unlike other magical characters, they are encouraged to touch them! Gift set available online at www.mybtff.com; $34.99. Great ideas and activities are available on the website’s blog.
Who can begrudge anyone trying to make a buck off a tooth — a bucktooth, as it were?
Not me. I just want to stress that if you don’t have a tooth vessel, and don’t have a pre-scripted way to talking to your children about their teeth falling out, and don’t intend to remember every body change your child goes through on the way to adulthood, you’re not a bloodless slacker in my book.
Or doll. Or vessel. – L
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49 Comments
Does this mean the little evil looking goblins with pliers I’ve been leaving around my son’s bed were the wrong thing to put out?
“What does the Tooth Fairy do with all those teeth?”
“Uses them to build the walls of her castle.”
I’m a bad dad.
“Children get to name their BTFF, and unlike other magical characters, they are encouraged to touch them!”
So basically it’s an Elf on the Shelf knockoff that can be touched(yeah!) without losing it’s magical fairy powers?
Personally, I prefer the slacker Tooth Fairy that visits our kids. She only gives dirty change and often skips nights, especially if toothless has a messy room that needs to be tidied up. Fairies can get on the job injuries, too. Pick up your toys and maybe she’ll give you some spare change tomorrow night, kid.
Even though my mom got rid of Santa when I was little i still like pretend he’s real.
“I’m Done with Making My Kid’s Childhood Magical.”
What I’ve discovered is THIS STUFF DOESN’T MATTER. Kids will value and remember what they find valuable, and likely it won’t be a $35 doll.
I was talking to one of my friend’s now adult, married son. He brought up a very frustrating truck project my husband and his dad worked on together. I remember it as unpleasant, drawn out, and a waste of time. He remembered it fondly as a great time: “And we had pizza everything you came over!”
Toys we picked up at thrift shops often were often popular and beloved, new toys were sometimes scorned.
Often the best memories are of spontaneous, unplanned events, and the favorite cherished toy is something you would never expect.
Can’t I encourage my child to use his imagination by giving him an empty cardboard box? Or a picture of the tooth fairy he can color as he sees fit? Saves me $35. And doesn’t require me to then buy a second doll for my second child when she starts losing her teeth. So really, that saves me $70.
My nephew got five bucks for his first lost tooth. FIVE DOLLARS. Are you kidding me? My kids get a quarter. My son has to have two teeth pulled at the end of the month, so he gets a dollar for those. But seriously. Everyone needs to just calm down about making everything a huge deal.
Losing your teeth is supposed to be one of the most memorable experiences of childhood? It happens generally 20 separate times over the period of a few years. Are we supposed to treasure every one of those times?
Bottle feeding baby tigers was one of my most memorable childhood experiences. Losing my baby teeth, not so much. Heck, I don’t consider my child losing her teeth particularly worthy of remembering and can’t tell you anything about any of them.
@lollipoplover – as soon as I read that it was “created by three parents,” I knew that a group of friends got together and went, “Man, the Elf on the Shelf people really struck gold! What can we come up with that people would buy?”
Created by *A* parent, or even created by *2* parents could have happened organically, people trying to come up with something to solve a problem for or entertain their children, but 3 parents? Total cash grab.
This sounds like way too much work for me… The tooth fairy in our house often forgets. I also tell the kids she is super busy, especially during hockey season. I can usually scrounge $1 a tooth but for a molar I might give them a Toonie.
I’m with probably most others on here that find that elf on a shelf thing creepy.
What in the heck is the value in marketing something to parents as “naughty”?
I am SO relieved! When I first started reading this concept, I was terrified that the ‘tooth vessel’ WAS the doll and so it would slowly fill its mouth with the kid’s teeth as they lost them, ending with this doll on the shelf with the creepiest possible smile.
I wonder if I have an idea for a competing product. Tooth Fairy doll for those of a Victorian macabre bent.
My son lost his first tooth during a very difficult time in our life (taking care of dying grandparents, moving) and mommy didn’t have the energy to keep up the charade. Now both my children just hand me their teeth and ask for cash, we’ve just cut out the middle man.
The Easter Bunny died that year too. To be fair, they’re pretty smart and the whole Bunny leaving eggs because Jesus died never worked for them.
The magic of childhood for them is to live in a world of comfort and safety??
I lost a top front tooth at age 28, while out with friends at a bar during a weekend getaway. Is there a doll for that?
One of my most memorable moments as a kid was climbing further up a cliff than I perhaps ought to have, and thinking how disappointed my parents would be if I died. I did mange to get down without the intervention of a Cliff Fariy Kit, though.
Back when I was a kid, a crisp apple did the trick just fine. It cost a lot less than $35, and it was tasty too.
The tooth fairy was a cheapskate. She only left a nickle, and just for the first tooth!
My father told me I was lucky, He said he only got a penny for his.
I blame bad central bank monetary policy for this tooth price inflation.
Wait, a child losing their first tooth is their “most magical moment?” More magical than their first word, first step, first Christmas, first birthday, first day of school, first time time riding a bike on two wheels, and any number of recitals, plays, sports events, and religious rituals if applicable? When those moments come around, someone’s going to try to market them as a child’s “most magical moment,” and try to sell something to make a profit from those moments too. Actually, it’s already customary to give money or a cross necklace for religious sacraments, flowers for a dance recital, minor sports leagues really push the team pictures and personalized trading cards, and of course, EVERYTHING seems to get photographed and posted on social media these days. So, the way I see it, if EVERY moment of a child’s childhood is “magical,” then really, none of them are.
The magical moments of my childhood:
– my observations of creatures in the woods – squirrels and chipmonks were my fairies and elves
– relationships with people outside my family. I felt such warmth and wonder at their interest in me.
– finishing and loving my first chapter book – the world of possibilities opened wide
– musical moments with my parentss friends – my parents were both music teachers, so we frequently had gatherings that I slowly grew to love for the rich harmonies the group would make…
The magic for me was in that inevitable progression from being a very dependent kid, to becoming a competent, engaged adult. I can’t imagine having more than an amused memory of this BTFF gizmo 30 years later.
As a summer camp trip leader, we used to play the game “I Wonder”. Stare across a natural landscape with a bunch of kids for a couple minutes, then ask everyone to share one thing they wondered about in their observations. We created a lot of magic in those discussions. No batteries required.
I used the plastic container that holds the toy inside the Kinder Egg as a tooth vessel. You don’t have Kinder Eggs in the US though, because they are too dangerous.
RE: Magical Moments
My oldest will be 7 soon, and he wants an archery set. Which is great, because his dad wants an archery set, too (unfortunately mine costs more than $25!). To go with the archery set, I am probably going to make him a wooden sword. He will work with me.
Together, we will use a saw and a router, wood glue, and wrap the handle of the sword with strips of leather.
It may not be a magical moment for him (he’ll be seven, so lots of time for magical moments in the future), but it will definitely be a magical moment for me.
Sherri,
I have a coworker who travelled to Ireland for a short-term assignment. The contraband Kinder toys he brought back were pretty ingenious!
@Workshop-
Re:Archery- Try a local fishing and game club that has archery for kids. Ours has a family membership fee (@$50 a year) and includes use of their bows and arrows and target practice scenes (stationary and moving targets). All of my kids have gone to the kids archery days (they have several days a week and on weekends) with my husband since they were 5 or 6, including the girls, and love it. They are ringers for the dart on balloon games at local fairs.
he
It is making memories, spending meaningful time with your kids, doing things you both enjoy together. Less doing things FOR your child, more doing it WITH your child.
My most magical moment of childhood depicted here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJJA6WRpvlg
Lenore – post this to that other website that hosts your articles and we can discuss my ideas of how to monetize this significant developmental milestone!
I like to offer my kids double what the tooth fairy pays, just to see what they’ll say. My daughter flat out refuses to sell me her teeth. Sure, it’s OK if some strange fairy sneaks into her room and buys her teeth to build a super creepy child-tooth castle in the clouds. But if I offer to buy them, me their very own lovable goofy dad, even at double the price, they say, “That’s weird, Dad. No.”
Once I persuaded my son to sell me a tooth. The next day he made me promise that if anyone asks, I am supposed to say that the tooth fairy took his tooth. Seller’s remorse, apparently.
@JJ: “I lost a top front tooth at age 28, while out with friends at a bar during a weekend getaway. Is there a doll for that?”
Probably a male one called Dentist Bill.
@Lenore: “[…] you’re not a bloodless slacker in my book.”
Phew!
Surely there is a photo packet that comes with it. We will need an 10×14 for ourselves, 8x10s for grandparents, 5x7s for uncles and aunts, and 2x3s for all the kids in class. Plus a video of course- both streaming and a hard copy. Add personalized, engraved mailers for all the pictures as well.
Neither of my children have been tooth wigglers, so there’s very little warning of the impending event (except when my 12 year old needed the remaining 8 baby teeth surgically pulled to facilitate braces placement. She cashed in for THAT bravery!). They would just bite into some hard bread or something and out it would come.
Good gracious. Next we will hear about a “my first period” doll or a “first armpit/nether regions hair” something or other.
I like what Meg said about the fact that kids will value and remember the things which they find valuable. I think that’s a really important point. The thing that bothers me about this BT..whatever friend tooth fairy crap, is that there is nothing personal about it at all. My dad collected antique silver coins. He passed a large portion of his collection on to me through the vehicle of the tooth fairy. He would teach me about the coins the “tooth fairy” left. I remember feeling important because my dad was trusting me with special items.
This cheap ploy aimed at creating that nearly instant nostalgia (love it!) totally misses the mark by shifting the focus from just being there for your kids and having fun, to this weird little computer generated troll looking thing. Also why the hell is their tooth fairy wearing two different shoes?
Yeah….Hell no. I wasn’t even really planning to do the Tooth Fairy with my daughter. Santa is one thing, but as an adult the TF seems especially lame and I wonder who the heck made it up in the first place.
So my son got his front baby tooth knocked out over the weekend, when he collided head-on with my nephew. Nephew is shorter, so he merely ended up with tooth shaped bruises on his forehead. Regardless, no tooth fairy showed up, as the tooth was lost somewhere on the playground. I’m pretty sure that puts me in bad-mom territory… A definitely unmagical way to lose a tooth. BTFF couldn’t help or anticipate this one.
“a captivating way for parents to be involved in one of their child’s most memorable experiences”
Why, oh why, do parents feel the need to deeply insert themselves in their children’s memorable experiences. I mean, I love seeing the spark of wonder in my kid and her friends. I love hearing their effervescent joy; even when it is a kid wiggling a loose tooth around or showing off a new gap in the teeth. But, I generally remain aware that a memorable experience is a sensation happening in the child’s mind, untouchable, and unknowable to the adults present. For me it has always been a moment of discovery, of finding out how much bigger the world is, how much more I could do.
A few years back I told my parents about how a particular cave experience had really touched off my love of caves. My parents just blinked at me a bit, until my mom broke the stunned silence by saying “I thought you hated that trip!” I didn’t even remember what trip it was attached to. I did hate that journey, but a lot of the stops along the way were spectacular. I complained incessantly because that trip was long, hard, gross, I was having a tremendously painful growth spurt, and I didn’t sleep much. There was a lot to say about all that. The cave though was so beautiful, so fascinating, I had no words for it. So I didn’t say much. In a way it seemed like a dream, more imagined than real.
I hope someday my daughter will open a window into her experiences and let me know what stirred her soul. But I don’t expect much influence over what those experiences will have been. The best I can do is let her experience things.
“Good gracious. Next we will hear about a “my first period” doll or a “first armpit/nether regions hair” something or other.”
IT’S ALREADY HERE
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/now-the-normal-barbie-dolls-will-teach-girls-about-periods_us_56001b39e4b08820d9195323
>TRIGGER WARNING<
**Do NOT listen to the parents rapping the Da Period Talk. I wish I could undo that…but I am forewarning others to save themselves***
The color of the eggs, the color of the wood on the cross…
I had no idea what a Kinder egg was, so I looked it up online. Interestingly, the reason they can’t be sold in the US is because of a 1938 food and drug law. Who knew? So, while the ban probably does have some cultural baggage behind it, at least you can’t say “Americans NOWADAYS are too paranoid about choking.”
You had me at tooth vessel.
Period Barbie defitly creepy. If the parents can’t handled it then there is doctors and teachers can do it. Toys like Barbie were meant for fun and dreams not adult issues like periods and whether you’re not fat
Oh thank you! And here I thought I was just a crabby old biddy.
I gave my kids each $20 and told them I didn’t ever want to hear another word about the tooth fairy.
Neither of them has left home (permanently) yet.
I do like a lot of firsts though – mainly the ones about accomplishments, and also the ones that are big fun. Especially when no cash or commercialization is involved.
I had to make excuses for the tooth fairy on several occasions because I am a slacker.
“Sorry, I don’t think she could get to your pillow because your room was too messy.”
I also used it as a teaching moment about bureaucracy:
“You’ll have to write a letter of explanation to the tooth fairy since you swallowed your tooth.”
I had fun with it, but honestly, there were times when just coming up with change was a challenge, there was no way I was going to buy some doll on top of it.
I know I’ve mentioned him before, but a man named Robert Paul Smith wrote a wonderful book called “WHERE DID YOU GO?” “OUT” “WHAT DID YOU DO?” “NOTHING”, in which he put forth the position that parents should let their kids alone. That the parents have no business butting in to their childrens’ world.
I’m not sure I totally agree with him, but I do think that kids’ ‘magical’ lives are apt to be lived oitside of parental interference.
Har!
Tooth Fairy only came once and when my son lost his 2nd tooth he lost it in the grass 5 minutes later showing it to little friends.
The best part is the tooth fairy coming that one time – I left him a buck in a water glass on the table with a note written on the bill, from the head of George Washington, that said: “Brush your teeth! I didn’t and these chompers are made of wood!”
We talked a lot about history and dental hygiene after that 🙂
Any way, who has time to make every moment magical? The kids don’t even care – they get “Magic Fatigue” too.
I am feeling nostalgic about this morning when my little adorable deeply-precious son lied to me about taking my candy stash. I pegged him out of the three kids and guilted out a confession by leaning on how delicate trust can be and how sad I felt to not be sure of his words. Then his little face screwed up tight and he cried out “I did it and I’m so, so sorry, Mommy!” Then he came to me and unburdened his grief with the hug that never ends. Meanwhile, I considered how he is the first of my kids to show real remorse instead of just feeling chastened because it sucks to be caught. I agonized over how much I had wanted to get through to him, and how heartbreaking it was to actually succeed, maybe wishing that he had the same protective wall the others enjoy.
Bottle THAT!!
The Tooth Fairy is the slacker of all the magical people in the world. Santa shows up without fail. The Easter Bunny is always done with her journey by Easter Morning, but the Tooth Fairy? She forgets. She doesn’t have the proper change. She really should be fired.
When I was in the tooth-fairy age myself my older brother had to have a tooth pulled. I was quite amazed with this big tooth and wondered how much money the tooth fairy would give him for it so he put it in a glass to humor me. Over night my parents put his allowance money which he was due to get around that time in his glass so that I would think it was the tooth fairy and as a joke to him too. That was a really magic moment.
I agree that exploitative commercialization is pathetic, but the opposite case can be made: pictures of happy, beautiful children promote the idea that kids are valuable, precious, and should be treasured. What’s much worse is people taking pictures of their cars and other objects made of metal and plastic.
A little funny timing. Yesterday afternoon my 5 year old daughter overheard a conversation about the tooth fairy. She turned to me and told me flat out that she didn’t believe in the tooth fairy. I went with the neither confirm nor deny approach. But she already knows the truth about Santa and the Easter Bunny. And I have always doubted if it is even possible to sneak into her room without waking her. I guess this takes the pressure off to not get caught at it whenever she does start loosing teeth.
Another funny story . . . .
One of my crowns split one evening, and so I spit out a chunk of “tooth.” As I sat at the table saying “Oh, crap,” my son asked what happened.
So I said I didn’t take good care of my teeth, and they’ve started falling apart. Showed him the chunk, pulled back my cheek and showed him the remaining tooth/crown. He’s been brushing his teeth daily ever since.
I can just give my kids a quarter and save 34.74 to go see a movie, now THAT’S magical!!!
>>Any way, who has time to make every moment magical? The kids don’t even care — they get “Magic Fatigue” too.<<
That, or they come to expect "magic" at every turn. I remember an Internet article about kids who got disappointed that their parents didn't hide chocolate coins "from the leprechauns" all over the house on St. Patrick's Day. Here it is:
http://www.rageagainsttheminivan.com/2013/03/lets-bring-holidays-down-notch.html
My husband’s ex would have LOVED this with their daughter! The tooth fairy brought money, but left the teeth “for mommy to keep because they are so, so special.” (Eww!) One time, the tooth got dropped down the bathroom sink. After daughter went to bed, mom called aunt & grandma to come help. They opened the pipe under the sink, retrieved the tooth, and told daughter the tooth fairy flew down the drain to get it for them. And left $10. Personally, I have more important things going on in my life. My kids are lucky if the tooth fairy even remembers in the first week or so!
Call me a grouch but isn’t the tooth fairy, by herself, enough? We have enough trouble remembering to put the money under the pillow when the kids lost a tooth – they both believe that we’re the last house on her run, because she’s always late.
Around Valentine’s Day last year my daughter came home and said “I can’t wait to get my book on Valentine’s Day”. ??? When I asked her what she was talking about she explained that one of the boys in her class told her that Cupid brings each child a book every Valentine’s Day. I flat out told her that wasn’t true, that the kid’s parents must be buying him the book. There was no way I was launching yet another tradition that i’d have to be on top of every year!