Tuesday, June 23, 2015

A big story about being a little scared.

My smallest of my small people had a dentist appointment to get some cavities filled. He is not quite 3, so that's sort of a big ordeal which I've sort of been stressing about, but trying not to because I didn't want him to pick up on my stress vibes. (On a completely related side note, if you have a child who does pitiful things like get sick every time you try to take away the pacifier for good, don't cave. I have strong suspicions that these cavities are pacifier related, and as pitiful as a sick kid who just wants a pacifier is, getting cavities filled on a two year old is also pitiful, and it costs more than taking away the cursed pacifier.)

The pediatric dentist is a couple hours away from us, because we live in a smaller town. A town that doesn't have a dentist equipped to fix such problems in such small people because in order to fix those problems they prefer to partially sedate kids.Whatever partially sedated is supposed to mean. Actually, I'll tell you, since now I know. Partially sedated means they gave him a cocktail of drugs that essentially made him act like the kid who showed up to my choir retreat in high school completely stoned (because apparently teenagers and toddlers are roughly the same in a lot of regards). He got really loopy. And then loopy mixed with spacing off randomly. Then laying on the couch blowing spit bubbles and alternately laughing and telling me it's not funny. Also quite a bit of telling me he could do things that he really couldn't do at that point. Or shouldn't. Like walking. Then they took him into a room where I didn't go in which they strapped him into a papoose board (a fancy way to say he was restrained) and gave him nitrous oxide as well and then got to work on his teeth.

The thing is they send you home with all these disclaimers and warnings like, 'don't let your child walk by themself for 6 hours after the procedure' and 'call if you have a problem like them still vomiting after 6 hours' (obviously this is paraphrased) and these things totally make a mother way more comfortable with the idea of them partially sedating said tiny person to get their teeth fixed. Er, something...

Fortunately I have family to stay with in this "big city" a couple hours away which makes all of this a ton easier. I don't have to drive back two hours with a groggy, moody, possibly (but thankfully not) vomitty child to get home to our beds. The siblings have been able to stay and play with grandma and cousins while I did this whole dentist visit with just the tiny person in question. We did have to pack some stuff, so we could stay with people, but that is a small thing in the long run.

While I was packing , my biggest of the small people lost her first tooth. This is a big deal. Tooth losing sort of weirds me out, if I'm being honest, but again, I'm trying to be chill because the last thing I need is my hypochondriac child freaking out about losing teeth because I didn't keep my cool. She was brushing her teeth and then I came to check them. Truthfully, she probably doesn't need them checked anymore, but if I stop checking hers then her brother who is only 18ish months younger will think he doesn't need his checked, and then the two year old will be in the minority and fight to not have his checked, so I keep checking her teeth even though she is 6 years old. I was just brushing behind her lower teeth real quick-like and a tooth came flying out at me. It surprised us both. A lot. I went to go get a cotton ball for her bleeding gums and discovered quickly that just letting her rinse and spit was more effective (I'm so clueless!!!) . I don't remember my gums bleeding so much when I lost teeth. In fact, I sort of forgot they did at all until just the other day. I went to tell her dad and consult about tooth fairy rates because he was just heading to bed (night shift.) and then I went to collect the tooth so we could bring it with us so the tooth fairy could come. Then she came to me and snuggled up and quietly told me that it scared her. So we snuggled and talked about how it's ok to be scared sometimes and how she was ok even though it scared her. We came to Grandma and Grandpa's and proudly showed off the new gap in her smile and I think everyone's reactions helped ease the scary a little.

We stayed the night at Grandma and Grandpa's and I slept like I was nearly 8 months pregnant (because I am). Which is to say I woke up frequently. Every time I woke up it seemed like I had been having strange dreams about teeth. Or when my 2 year old climbed in with me, I woke up wondering how I was going to get up without waking him up, so I wouldn't have to eat my breakfast in front of him when he couldn't have any (he had to be fasting). And wondering if I turned my alarm clock down if that would help, or if I would sleep through it and miss the appointment (because I'm good at ignoring alarms). It turns out that between the dreams and the concern about the procedure, and the surprise about my one-tooth-short daughter, and trying to figure out how to negotiate getting ready in the easiest way , and the usual pregnancy hip pain, I didn't have to worry about sleeping through my alarm. I was up well before my alarm, and was able to sneak out without waking the wee one.

In the morning my eldest came running up at well before 7am which is very unusual for her, showing me the tooth fairy goods. I asked if she woke up early because she was excited and she told me, "no. I just ran out of sleep". That's about how I felt. The little boy slept in well past 7am which is unusual for him and we made it to the dentist's without a hitch. The procedure went well. He recovered well, other than being all sugared up because you are supposed to start them on clear things like jello and juice and after fasting all night and most of the morning he downed alarming amounts of both. And my strange dreams, and concern were mostly pointless. We were ok. Even though I was a little bit scared. It turns out it's ok to be scared sometimes.

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