Dental Doomsday

I'm pretty sure that Judgment Day is going to be similar to what it feels like to have a dental appointment.  You get informed that it's happening, you know all along that you'll have to have a reckoning for your habits (or lack thereof), but still you don't change until you get that phone call from the receptionist reminding you that your check-up is tomorrow....so you hurriedly floss and brush and use that nasty mouthwash you always avoid in hopes that they won't SEE the horrors of your lack of hygiene.

Except, in this case, I'm directly responsible for my children's actions.... which in itself is a completely mortifying experience, let me tell you.  To defend myself, my own dental habits are actually pretty good.  I floss and brush daily, and use mouthwash probably four times a week, at least.  Problem is, by the time I've got my kids ready for bed, I'm usually distracted/busy/tired and don't want to sit through the entire process as the kids fight over the toothbrushes they have to use (for some reason we have a plethora--don't ask me why), and so I get lazy about their brushing habits.

This last week, we had a dentist appointment for the kids.  Due to insurance issues with Steve's change of jobs over the past year, it had been over a year since their last check-up, and lately, Jack has been complaining of some toothaches, so I knew we needed to get him in for an appointment soon.

Because of these same insurance changes, we had to see a new dentist (which made me sad--I loved our previous dentist), and as I googled where the office was, I was surprised to notice that the dentist's office was the same office where I visited my orthodontist every month for four years straight during my oh-so-adorable brace-face years.....which wasn't always a positive experience.

I mean, the guy once accused me of being on drugs because I went in with red eyes from some new contacts I had.  He saw me once a month and thought he could make that judgement call?  

Not exactly a warm and fuzzy ortho, let me tell you that.

So, needless to say, between those lovely memories and the fact that I've only checked up on my kids' brushing habits, like, twice in the past year or so (okay, that's an exaggeration, but unfortunately not much of one), I knew it was going to be bad.

I didn't know how bad, though:

Jack was a trooper as our awesome hygienist, Ben, cleaned his teeth  (with bubble-gum-flavored toothpaste!)

BUT the X-Rays do not lie; the kid needs four root canals on his back molars.  FOUR.  ROOT CANALS.  On my 6-year-old's BABY teeth, you know, the ones that are going to fall out eventually anyway?  

I feel horrible.  I do tell him to floss and brush, but checking up on him?  Not so much.  So, yeah.

Clark was next, and I was apprehensive as they X-Rayed his adorable little four-year-old teeth....

I waited nervously for the verdict...

No cavities whatsoever!  Whoo-hoo!  Proof that I'm not an absolute failure as a mother!!

Maggie was a little nervous, as this was her first dentist visit ever (she's only two, but will be three in a week), so she asked me to sit in the dreaded chair with her, which I happily did (see the smile?  Proof.  I'm happy).

And although she whimpered a little once in a while while the hygienist "counted" her teeth, she was very obedient.  Never even bit the guy!

Yes, he pointed out her overbite/crowded bottom teeth and mentioned that she'd probably need braces, and I just laughed.

Of course our kids are gonna need braces.  Do you even know who their parents are?

Exhibit A:


Exhibit B:

Yeah...we've already started saving for braces.  And glasses.

Sigh.  Our poor kids.

While Maggie and I were busy, the boys, well--they tried to be obedient.  I distracted them with YouTube videos on my phone (Ranger at Brownstone National Park--anyone else remember that show?) for as long as I could, but sometimes check-ups take a while.  So after Jack made his fifth run down the hall while I yelled after him, pinned down by the weight of my daughter on my chest, Ben pulled out his gigantic set of plastic teeth and let Jack play with them in order to try to keep him at least in the room.

Jack had fun wearing them as earmuffs for a while (I would've taken a picture, but Clark was still glued to the videos of Humphrey the Bear trying to steal Donald Duck's honey, which was on my phone, which is my only camera that I currently use because apparently packing another real camera is too much work for me), and then after Jack managed to pull the teeth completely apart--something I'm not entirely sure they're meant to do--he went back to dancing down the hallway.

Oh, well, at least we tried, right?

After a long wait (the dentist had to finish another procedure before coming in to see Mags), we received the verdict for her, as well--no cavities there, either!

Yay!

I sent the good news to Steve at his work first, and his reaction was pleasant:

And then I dropped the bomb about the four root canals.  I won't show you that picture....

But, hey--we survived the Apocalypse!   our dentist appointments!!  Now 6 months left for me to forget my righteous goals of flossing and brushing for both myself and my three children three times a day and go back to my old habits of occasionally reminding them to brush on their own before bed just after I feed them tons of candy!

Siiigh.  I really am a good mom, I promise.