I had to take Naomi to the dentist this morning. Contrary to me, she was thrilled. She loves going to the dentist. She’s been thrilled since I told her last Thursday that she was going… she even drew them a picture – a picture of her, with a very big smile and big teeth, with big hearts all around it.
Meanwhile, I remain unconvinced that they aren’t going to hurt her, just like dentists did to me my entire life. I still get the body shakes at even the idea of having to go – and I ignore my need to go to the point of stupidity and now to large expense when I can go after Gabby gets here.
I get upset that I can’t remain with her, just in case. I spend the entire time in the waiting area, listening hard to make sure I don’t hear any cries of pain and ready to get up and run to her defense if I do – which is hard when I am the size of a small whale right now. I don’t move fast anywhere.
She asks me why I don’t go, since the dentist is so awesome. I find it hard to fudge the details and try to get by with the I’m super busy excuse. I don’t need to tell her, that the dentist is one person who will almost certainly send me off into as close to a panic attack as I’ve ever been, and I am completely convinced that no matter what the dentist says, he or she is still a masochistic jerk who is going to cause me as much pain as humanly (or inhumanly) possible.
So I am a good Mummy. I tell her that the dentist is awesome – and that she’s done an awesome job, and everything will be just… well awesome.
Oh and in total parenting win, I then take her to Rita’s Ice Cream for a reward for being just so…. awesome? (*smirk*).
I have three more children scheduled for dentist visits in the next two weeks. Fun times. Really. No really. Okay… there is some sarcasm right there.