What Some People Have to Go Through for a Nice Smile

Adam had his first dentist appointment a couple of weeks ago. You know, because he just turned three. Ten months ago. Part of the reason it was so late was because I forgot about it, but when I did remember it, I'd put it out of my mind and remember Jacob's first trip to the dentist. Let's just say it wasn't fun. Jacob at three hated ladies and hated to have his teeth brushed. Then I took him and let a lady brush his teeth. Ah, good times. Yes, he has a red file there.

But he's better now and even tolerates the gritty mint toothpaste that was the previous provoker of white-coated nightmares. He is seven after all. But Adam, Adam is still three so I put it off as long as I could, until I was reminded by snarky forwarded postcard that Jacob had missed his six month appointment and it had been *gasp* nine months so I bit the bullet and took them both in for checkups.

I did not prepare Adam for the dentist. I've learned my lesson about the over preparing, scares the crap out of my over-analytical kids. I put them in the car, drove down the road, and when I pulled into my parking space turned around and said, "Yeah, we're going to the dentist! Hooray for healthy teeth!" and led them to the door. Jacob grumbled a bit about it and let me know all too often his opinion of the mint toothpaste, but Adam was intrigued, so I gave a brief overview of all things oral medicine while Jacob took his turn first. I expected resistance or at the least bit some apprehension, but all I got was some pissiness over having to wait his turn (and almost an hour at that).

But his turn finally came and he was eager to chew the ugly pink tablets and show the lady just how clean his teeth really were (and they were, he does love to brush his teeth). I thought he might cry going alone down the dark hallway of doom but he just waved and I think I saw him skip at some point. Now, typically, a child's first visit consists of the pink tooth wash and an introduction to the dentist and then you schedule a follow up a month later for a cleaning. You know, because it's easier on the kids. Has nothing to do with getting paid for another appointment, no. When I was finally able to go "to the back", the dentist said he was so impressed with how well Adam did that he would clean his teeth then and there to save me a co-pay a trip. And since this post is about Adam I'll only touch on the fact that he had me sit down and threatentalk to Jacob about ceasing the screaming or they'd have to sedate him for the sealants he was getting. But see Dentist Man! It's not me, one of them is GOOD!

So Adam had his teeth cleaned. He was so proud. He received THREE prizes (and Jacob was grudgingly given one. A small one) and a new patient baggie filled with his new toothbrush, floss, toothpaste, and a six month supply of pink pills. He carried that bag around with him until it fell apart last week. I wish I'd taken his picture with it. Anyway, the point of my post, and it does have one, is that the dentist was thrilled with Adam's clean teeth. His bite, not so much. I cannot believe I never noticed it before, but his front teeth don't meet.



See.

I just always assumed he had a quirky smile, but no. His teeth haven't come all the way down and are a bit poked out, while straight, they aren't where they are supposed to be.

And I was totally thinking we'd have to start saving for those braces now and not what the dentist had in mind which was trash-the-pappy.

OMG! Do not make me take the pappy away from my teeny, tiny, itty-bitty baby! Because, uh, he's a baby. Sure he wears underpants and plays Star Wars but he still says leggalow (yellow) and sucks a pappy. Because he's a BABY! My baby!

So the pappy is evil because it has caused Adam to lay his tongue around it, pushing his teeth forward. Apparently this *could* also be the reason he says leggalow too. Or, you know, didn't talk for, like, ever.

Yeah. I ruined my child's teeth AND his speech! I am SO Mother of the Year.

So that dentist soothingly told me to ease my BABY off his last token of babyness oral device and patted Adam's leg and sugary-sweetly told him his teeth would be so much better if he ditched the Nuk.

And that's what he did.

He gave me all his pappies. He said he didn't need them because he was a big boy.

It hasn't been easy on him. He's a little cranky. He cries over little things. He lets me know he's sad. He went a whole week without taking that pappy, even when I'd offer him one at night to sleep he'd say no, it would ruin his teeth, he was a big boy. Although he's had a few setbacks, he is ready to give up his baby crutch. Mommy? Not so much. I know I am being crazy, but it almost physically hurts me to get rid of those pappies. Those three remaining pappies are the last link I have to Adam's babyhood. It went by so quickly. I'm not ready for it to be over. I thought it would only be hard with the first kid. But I was wrong. It doesn't get easier.

Adam is officially a big boy I guess. I knew it was coming. I just didn't expect it so soon.

I'm so proud of him. How many three year olds would give up their favorite possession all in the name of straight teeth?

Lord help Mommy though.