Hey, Let's Go To The Dentist!!

Normally I don't post a message this soon after a previous one but my day today was "post worthy" I felt. My children gave me plenty of drama and humor this afternoon. ~and after you hear about it you'll understand that "blogger therapy" was a necessity for me tonight.

The day started out pretty well. After getting Taylor delivered to her classroom, Emma and I headed to Bible study. My class was fun. We all laughed a lot and learned a lot as well. After Bible study was over Emma and I headed to the mall to make a couple of exchanges and have lunch. We had a good time, just the two of us. She acted very mannerly and disciplined the whole time. I was so proud of her. ~and very curious of exactly who this child was that had taken up shop in Emma's body. But I didn't dare question where the real Emma was, I just reveled in the moment. We got our exchanges done and our lunch ate and headed home, victoriously avoiding the mall play area with very little fit throwing about it.

At 2:00 we picked up Taylor from school. My day is still going [strangely] euphorically well. Taylor claimed to have a great day at school and was excited when I told her that she had a dentist appointment later this afternoon. (She hasn't been to the dentist since we lived in Hot Springs...so at least 2 1/2 years ago...I know, I know, I'm a horrible mother for not already taking her...yeah, yeah)

So now this is where my day begins to take a turn to the dark side. I had put Emma down for a quick nap earlier when we got home from picking Taylor up. I put to bed a happy little angel baby and woke up a demon child who was madder than 'you know the place'! Why? I have no idea. I just know that she was not a happy camper and I had to put fuel on the fire because I had to brush her hair and get her dressed to leave. She didn't want to wear what I was putting on her, her flip flops hurt her toes, she didn't NEED TO GO POTTY...as she sits there filling up the throne, and she DIDN'T WAN NO BOW IN HUH HAYUH!" What should've taken me 5, maybe 10 minutes tops, took me closer to 30. We FINALLY start to head out the door, 3 minutes before Taylor's appointment time!! (Luckily the office was only 5 minutes away...only 2 minutes late, which for us could be considered early!) No longer was I the confident, happy, keepin'-it-together mom. Psycho mom was desperately trying to rear her ugly face!

At the dentist's office, the ladies at the desk looked as frazzled as I was when I walked in the door. They were very busy with whatever it is that they do. I found out later that everyone including the hygienists and nurses were in a hurry because they had a meeting to get to that afternoon. That should've been my first sign to turn around and leave right then. Well, the nurse came to get Taylor, who by this time had started to get nervous, and she escorted her to the back, (not even asking if I'd like to go with her), while at the same time handing me 67 forms to fill out and sign. I asked if I could go with her but no, they needed the forms and I wasn't "allowed to be in the room for x-rays which is what they were doing first." So I rushed through signing God knows what and checking every "no" on the four page form of medical history (SHE'S 6 FOR GOODNESS SAKES!!! NO, SHE DOESN'T HAVE SYMPTOMS OF ARTHRITIS OR PROSTATE ISSUES! DON'T THEY MAKE MEDICAL HISTORY FORMS FOR CHILDREN???) Finally I finished the forms and was allowed to go back to the extremely small and crowded exam room where Taylor was reclining in the chair waiting. The nurse put Emma and I on a teensy little stool in the corner and told us to watch out and not bump our heads on the shelves that were right above the stool. (Thanks!) Emma would not sit still. I swear she must've flipped and flopped in my lap a hundred times. And here we are not sitting in a chair with a back support but on a stool that only held one of my butt cheeks! I would've normally already put her down on the floor to stand but we were surrounded by wires and all sorts of dental equipment. It might've been fine for any other child to stand amongst it but it was a hazard for Emma. The doctor finally came in 30 minutes later, took a quick look in Taylor's mouth and said "Nice healthy mouth, needs to floss more. Have a good day." I thought "Wow! We waited thirty minutes for that. Fabulous!" (~that was sarcastic, in case you didn't hear it.)

The nurse sits down now and proceeds to polish Taylor's teeth before the hygienist starts her part. She gives Taylor a run down of all the equipment that she'll be using on her in about 10 seconds and then she proceeds to polish. Taylor is doing great considering I know she didn't even catch one word of that explanation she was given of what was about to be done to her. I'm situating Emma on my lap again and telling her through clenched teeth to "BE STILL", when all of a sudden I hear the suction tool and Taylor about jumps out of the chair and starts bawling. The nurse jerked back in shock and just looked at Taylor and at me. I got up to console her, ask her what happened and tell her that everything was alright-it was just sucking the spit out of her mouth. The hygienist walked in as I was calming Taylor down and I told her that she just got scared of the suction tool but that she was alright. That lady looked at me and the nurse (who is now putting away all of her tools and taking off her gloves -giving up!!!) and says, "We're gonna need to recommend her to a specialist." All of this took place in a matter of two minutes, at the most! Apparently she felt the need to keep saying that "She needs to go to a specialist" because I kept standing there stunned and staring at her with my mouth open not believing that they were stopping and giving up that quickly. Didn't they know how difficult it was for me to get us there in the first place and then we'd spent 45 minutes there already and now she's telling me I have to take her somewhere else??!!! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!! In utter disbelief, I managed to cough out the question "Specialist?!" She said "Yes, Ma'am, she needs to go see someone who treats children who are afraid." I just kept standing there looking at her, dumbfounded. I honestly could not believe they were not going to finish. It's not like Taylor was out of control or was refusing to open her mouth. She'd just been startled because she wasn't warned that the suction tool was fixing to be shoved into her cheek.

I guess I kept standing there longer than they expected because they kept asking me "Now, how old is she?" (They treat patients beginning at age 6.) "Grrrr...She's 6!" "Yeah, she needs to go to a specialist, they'll be able to treat her better and handle her better." The point was, they didn't want to take the time necessary to work with a child because they were in a rush to get to their meeting. As I walked out of the office dragging my children along, I was so ticked off that I could have spit nails! I imagine I looked something like the guy who plays the incredible hulk just before he makes his transition into the big green monster.

Emma had to pour salt in the wound too before we left. When we were sitting in the waiting room waiting on the nurse to bring me a referral from the dentist, Emma kept saying to Taylor "Sissy, you didn't get a new toowf bwush and you didn't get a stick-uh ee-duh!" "Sissy, you doan get to have a new toowf bwush!" Poor Taylor was just sitting there, still scared and upset but not crying anymore; thinking she'd done something wrong. That's just like an ole' meanie sister, isn't it!

After we got in the car we had to go straight to the baseball field to register Taylor for t-ball. The entire way there the girls fought, teased each other, screamed and cried, something fierce! I thought I was going to be completely gray headed before we could get there. I did see something that pulled me out of my stupor and made me laugh a little despite my screaming children in the backseat. I got behind this car that had been purchased from Dimmit Chevrolet in 'Podunk' Florida. You can get an idea of my state of mind by this point by my finding the name "Dimmit" humorous. All I could think about was that some poor soul had grown up with the last name "Dimmit"! ha! In my head I started yelling at the girls, "STOP IT, DIMMIT!!" and I thought it was so funny. Thank you, Lord, for giving me a little dose of comic relief before I slipped off the deep end.

We pulled into the parking lot and were a few minutes early so we sat in the car to wait until closer to time. Emma, of course, wanted to know what we were doing so I told her and she decided that she wanted to play t-ball too. I explained to her that she had to be 6 years old before she could play and that maybe we could see about letting her take dance instead.

Have you ever read any Junie B. Jones books? I don't read them much any more now that Emma is getting older and talking more because they scare me. Emma has many qualities that are like Junie B. On more than one occasion I have thought that things she did or said sounded just like something I'd read in a Junie B. Jones book. Like this for instance: We got out of the car to go up to the concession stand to meet the registration lady and the whole way up there Emma was jabbering LOUDLY "I'm not twee any mow, Mama! I'm six now and I wone to pway t-ball too. Mama! Do you hee-uw me? I'm not twee! I'm six so I can pway! Hey, I doan see whey-uw da dance is? Mama, whey-uw is my dance at? Am I gonna dance hee-uw?"

By the time we were back in the car headed home, I needed to be comforted. Badly! I'd had it!!! ~and I'd told the girls that several times now. It was already after 6 o'clock and now I had to figure out something for supper. Sadly, when I need to be comforted, I often look to food to do that for me. So we stopped by Chilis and picked up their appetizer sampler and a huge coke that I could drown myself in. Man, it was a gooood coke! As usual all that the "comfort" food did for me was make me feel bloated and nauseated. I did get some relief in the form of early bed time. I had Emma bathed and in bed by 7:45 and Taylor was in the shower, on her way to being ready for bed.

When I put them to bed, and get them all snuggled in and help them say their prayers, it's like most of the day's stresses and drama just fades away. This is when I think my girls are the most precious. When they're settled down, telling me they love me and saying goodnight. I turn out their lights, tell them I'll see them in the morning and smiling, I quietly close the door.

THEN I RUN THROUGH THE HOUSE, MY HEAD THROWN BACK, ARMS STRETCHED WIDE, SILENTLY SCREAMING "PRAISE THE LORD, I'M FREE! I'M FREE! I'M FREE!"
...just kidding! ;-)