We'll make it up as we go. I'm realizing I need to make time during the day to blog, because once night falls and the stars appear over the village green, and all the people are snug indoors, there are just too many things competing for my attention: parental duties, marital leisure, basement ping pong, the hope of an early bedtime, and also Matt and I have started watching Justified.
Since last we spoke, Troy the rat trap checker came back. We were both glad to see each other. He went up in the attic and informed me that we'd murdered another flying squirrel, and I received this news with equanimity. Then I went to play tennis, where my friend said, "Oh, you paid the exterminators what? You should have called me, I have a guy."
I should have called her. She always has a guy.
Then I took Hank to karate and Laura to swimming and made a black bean and sausage soup. Laura and I nearly both lost our minds over her math homework. What's a hectoliter, quick!
Then it was today. Now I'm just telling you everything I did.
This morning I went to tennis team practice and then hung around and hit with some of the girls. The weather was gorgeous, and after three hours out there playing, all my cares had flown away. I had lunch with Matt, grabbed Hank, and checked Laura out of school to take them both to the dentist. It was there that my joy turned to chagrin.
The kids go back and then in a bit the dentist ushers me into his office and goes, "I have bad news." First of all, I have an allergy to the words "bad news," and I only want to hear them when it is bad, bad news. He told me that Hank has four cavities, which will have to be remedied in two lengthy appointments, probably involving some kind of sedation. Poor bud!
There was a fair amount of implicit judgment floating around about my slatternly ways of letting him brush his own teeth instead of doing it for him. I dunno, he has one of those spin brush things and I thought he was doing okay. But he was not! And now I am covered in shame.
Obviously Chick-fil-a was called for.
So there we repaired to nurture our spirits and kill a little time before I could drop Laura at swimming. A number of waffle fries found their way into my mouth. Laura ate a pile of chicken and then some of her brother's food. After a few minutes she goes, "Is it weird that I'm hungry right now?" I encouraged her to wait twenty minutes and then reassess. The girl can eat.
We chatted as Hank went to and from the play area. I petted Laura's hair and said, "Your hair is really long, do you want to get it cut before spring break?" "Not really," she said.
Hank looked at me and said, with all the accumulated wisdom of his six years, "Just let the girl do what she wants."
Not bad advice.
But even with such charming company as those two, I stewed and was glum about Hank's dental situation. Laura, sensing the mood, goes, "Are you, like, traumatized right now?"
"No," I said, "but I was just realizing that one of Hank's cavities costs the same as killing one flying squirrel."
So basically everything is fine here. Now you're caught up. How are you?
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14 comments:
My father--a very, very, very, very, very, very dedicated parent and doctor--brushed my teeth until I was eight, at which time I was magically capable of reaching and cleansing my back molars myself. He'd stand behind me, reach around with the tooth brush, and make damn sure there was nothing on my molars or any of my teeth. It was vigorous. I frequently sustained neck whiplash, and the whole process killed any gag reflex. If I complained, I'd get a bop on the head with his chin (both hands were busy, one holding the tooth brush, the other holding my jaw) and a gruff, "DO YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR TEETH OR NOT?" So I can tell you all about resentment, or I can report that I no cavities as a minor.
Let's not confuse sentiment with responsibility: My sentiment, your responsibility.
1. I was keeping track. You owe us.
2. I have a friend who always has a guy. It used to drive me crazy, and I found myself being competitive, because just once, I wanted to have the guy. But then I just gave up and gave in and started calling her, because she always had a guy.
3. Hectoliter! I'm already having problems with fractions.
4. 4 cavities qualifies as bad news.
I was keeping track, too, but just raising my eyebrows as a response. As for the dental thing, I feel for you. I would like to say, though, that my younger son has probably brushed his teeth twice a year in the eleven years he's been on the planet and NEVER has cavities. The older one is and has always been, diligent and has nary a dental carie. So it's all up for grabs, no need to feel slatternly or guilty and it might be time to watch "The Secret Life of Dentists" and reaffirm that you (and Hank) are the NORMAL ones.
Oops -- I meant to say that the older, more diligent son has had many a dental carie. Not nary -- I got carried away with late night rhymes.
Aww, little buddy! I hope that dentist is good and painless. When I was Hank's age I had a traumatic trip to the dentist, who was the same guy that worked on Dustin Hoffman in Marathon Man. It was a long time getting over that! So, yes, sedation! That Laura is just about grown up, isn't she?! I need to see that girl!
Monday & Saturday will be lost to us, you can't go back in time. Blogging is like being a shark, keep moving, keep eating.
I would like to agree with Christian about resentment in that on the advice of a dentist of our acquaintance (not our employ, no), we were told to never let anyone under the age of 7 brush with full responsibility & even 7 was just a guideline. I dreaded every night's brushing time (they managed their own morning & noontimes) and often grumbled where they couldn't hear about how those parenting books could have mentioned I would spend a decade brushing other people's teeth.
Toward the end, when they were almost-10 and almost-12, I was so seething with resentment that I just had to quit, even though my son still brushes his teeth like he is some kind of inside-the-mouth peril, perhaps as if touching the wrong tooth could lead to his demise like the red-shirt Guy Pearce played in Hurt Locker.
I am not even kidding.
This parenting thing is also a mine-field, there are so many things to know & we are doing them by ourselves so often, but at least they are baby teeth. Forward + cling to what is good. xx
I've been there with the cavity thing, and a flouride rinse (ACT) saved our reputations and money. I swear, if you do that once a day I don't think you even need to brush.
I am ridiculously smugly proud of my one cavity in my whole life, but truth is that it is probably due to the fact that my mom was hip to sealants way before they were mainstream. I have done the same with my kids and (cross fingers) so far so good. See if you dentist will do them!
I was not keeping track. But if you hadn't blogged for a week I might have called the EMTs. For me.
Oh, Hank and his statements!
Dentists and dental hygienists (bless their hearts) have a way of making you think that dental hygiene should be the most important thing in your life. There are other things. I believe that getting cavities is related to genetics so if you really want to know if you are to blame for those cavities get your DNA unraveled.
I am not sure if I have used "bless their hearts" correctly, as I am from The North where it is still cold and people are generally not out playing tennis.
Common, you did it just right! Very good!
I just looked at the dentist's notes again and it may be that there are only three cavities, but two are serious. Maybe I am covered in only three-quarters as much shame, LOL.
Whatever the case, for sure it looks like I'll be taking back over his dental hygiene for a while. He has a major gag reflex, so this will be challenging. But yes, forward!
Hey Beck!
Braden had a dentist appt yesterday as well. One filling and they found another and killed 2 birds with one stone. Glad its over. Dr. Hansen said he was an amazing patient..Jon says, " I think they tell everyone that" I remember when they all use to tell my mom the samething about me. Ha..anyhow, when are we geting together? We are long overdue to owe you dinner, and I have some really nice pans for you. :)
I'm going to blog myself, to tell all about the dentist yesterday and Braden's blanket experience. You will have to stop by and check it out, it was quite hilarious.
Call us, your lovely cousin keeps saying we owe you dinner..pick a date!
Stacy
Where are you? I can't take it, any more! I need my Suburban Matron post fix! I'm trying very hard not to whine, and seem insistent.... ;-)
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