What is with my family’s inability to keep their teeth in their heads???
I knocked out a front tooth when I was four. The adult tooth eventually came in, but slowly over the years it turned brown, then black, and I had to have it replaced with a crown (or live life as a pirate).
When my son was a toddler, he knocked out a front tooth too. Two actually. Turns out the two teeth were attached at the root. Show-off. The adult tooth came in and though it’s not brown, it came in so high his eye tooth is practically IN his eye.
Then, in keeping with our family tradition, my sweet girl fell face first into an ottoman – which is soft, except for the 1x1mm metal stud she zeroed in on. Fortunately, she didn’t lose a tooth, but it was wiggly.
I took her to the dentist the next morning. The minute we pulled into the parking lot, she began to wail. She hated going to the dentist and I felt like a monster forcing her. We waited for the x-ray, my stomach in knots. We had been referred to this dentist and she came highly recommended. Though there were brightly coloured images on the walls, toys and a fish tank, the atmosphere was cold and impersonal. If my children were ever to feel comfortable in a dental chair, a relationship based on warmth and trust needed to be established. This wasn’t happening here.
Finally the dentist appeared with red and swollen eyes. She said we’d have to reschedule. A patient had sent her a bouquet of flowers which had caused a severe allergic reaction.
We ran out of there and never looked back (and no, it was NOT me who sent the flowers!)
The next day I took Avery to see our new-amazing-lovehersomuchIcouldcry(and have)-dentist.
I am so grateful to have found someone who is clearly meant to do what she does. My daughter, who used to shake in fear, now shouts, “Yay!” when we pull into the parking lot. She jumps into the dentist’s arms and hugs her. On the way home from our last appointment she said, “My love Dr. Stacey.”
Know what kid? My love her too. Thank god we have this brilliant “Tooth Fairy” because it seems I’m destined to spend countless hours in her office with my dentally challenged children.
Just last week, for reasons unknown, Avery decided to get down on all fours like some kind of rabid animal and attack her brother. She lunged and chomped down on his jeans. Naturally, he pulled away. As he broke free from her jaw, two teeth broke free from…her jaw.
My son ran into my bathroom, where I just happened to brushing my 1 (fake) and 27 (real) teeth and exclaimed with jubilation, “Avery lost her first two
“What??!!” I shrieked.
This was a Sunday, a dentist’s day of rest. I had to wait until morning to call the office and hoped I could get an appointment.
As luck would have it, that night my son was violently ill. Okay, lucky for us, not for him. Conci-dentally (random dental pun) my son had
an appointment scheduled for the next morning.
I phoned and said, Good news, bad news. Bad news, my son has an appointment today, but he’s been up
all night vomiting (and, cue the circus music that is the soundtrack to my life). Good news, his sister knocked out two teeth last night and
can take his place.”
We arrived at the dental office and as always, Avery cheered. A panoramic x-ray revealed the adult teeth were ready to come in; no real damage done. It also revealed that the adult teeth are enormous. It seems my children have also inherited my Chiclet teeth.
It looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time at the
dentist’s office. That’s okay because when your children squeal,
“Yay!” when they see their dentist, life is good. We have another appointment next Tooth-day at 2:30 pm (get it, Tooth-Hurty?). Sorry, dental puns are irresistible. I blame the laughing gas.
|A little x-ray action…|