Friday, July 13, 2012

So It Was Just Me?!

    Today was my kiddies first trip to the dentist. After getting over the fact that my 3 year old was long overdo for the visit (yes, I know I'm a horrible mother), I also had to tackle one of my other issues. Ranking right after my irrational fear of fish (living or dead) is my fear of the dentist/dentist offices.    As a mother there are some phobias and general unpleasantness that you just have to face for the betterment of your children. For me, it began as early as birth with the decision to hold or not hold my bloody, mucus-stained infant fresh from the womb. Then it progressed to catching snot with my bare hands (I still shudder at the memories), cleaning up vomit and the dreaded complete grossness that is potty training.
    I had a month to prepare the family for the dentist trip. I explained everything that I could remember about the dentist to my preschooler and simultaneously tried to hide my humongous fear.
   When we got there, the place was pleasant enough but smelled sterile. You know the smell. Clean machinery, disinfectants, needles and drills. Okay, so maybe needles and drills don't have an exact smell in reality, but in my head they certainly do.
   As I filled out paperwork, I tried not to gag at the smell. I smiled at my children and reassured them that everything was going to be fine and that they would love the dentist. And though I didn't disbelieve it, I didn't wholeheartedly believe it either. But maybe I should have.
  When I was told that my oldest child had to get x-rays done, I prepared for a screaming fit. After all, he is the drama prince that throws himself on the kitchen floor if I give him the blue cup instead of the green one. Well, let me tell you, he shocked the heck out of me.
   Though skeptical of the "superman cape" x-ray shield, he didn't show fear. He even smiled at little at the wonderful technician as she asked him about his favorite toys. As I watched him make it through his first cleaning like a champ, I swear I almost cried. Happy tears. Tears of pride. It was such a weird feeling. It wasn't like he'd won the Nobel Peace Prize or anything, but I was beaming like he had. I couldn't stop myself from grinning. Every staff member that walked by asked "it's their first time?" Apparently there's a "it's my kid's first trip to the dentist" face and I was wearing it.
   My youngest son bit the dentist (well really just nipped her a bit), but that's nothing compared to the wrestling match I thought it would be.
   Overall, it was a wonderful trip. I'd begged my husband to come along for moral support and to be an extra wrangler, if needed. It turned out that I was the only one that needed wrangling. I was the one that needed to be talked to in low, soothing sounds and reminded that it was "okay". It was just me that was afraid of the dentist and all that entailed. My kids were brave. They inspired me.
 Now, I'm not exactly rushing to the phone to make my appointment, but I'm seriously contemplating it thanks to my little warriors. It's amazing what kids can make you think and rethink.

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