Today was the our 6 month appointment at the dentist. The thought of taking my son to the dentist used to make my arm pits sweat because he would do everything short of stripping down naked and running through the streets when it came to avoiding the dentist. It was embarrassing. When I would finally get him in the dentist chair, it would take two or three of us to hold him down and pry his mouth open just for a cleaning. You don't even want to know what it was like when the Hygienist told him one day that he had a cavity! Lord help us all.
My son has always been like this though. He would scream and cry when I left him at preschool, he used to scream and cry when I signed him up for karate-which HE wanted to do, and is now actually a Brown belt! He used to scream and cry when I tried to drop him off at a friend's house for a birthday party... and on the first day of kindergarten, my son was that one kid who held on to the bike rack for dear life while his mother-me-grabs hold of his legs and pulls with all her might. I did this while holding an infant and all of the other mothers just looked at me and quickly looked away as if to say "Better you than me sista!"
Aaron is 9 now and has grown out of this horrible "scream and cry" stage that only lasted his ENTIRE LIFE so far. I thought I was in the clear. I thought it would be easy sailing from here on out... boy was I wrong!
My three year old has always been the picture of happiness. I assumed she was just like her older sister and brave. Willing to do anything, anytime and with anyone. I breathed a sigh of relief the first day of Ballet and my little one strolled right into class without so much as a glance back at me. I once again started to believe that I may just be getting the hang of this mothering thing... hell, I was even started to be downright confident in my mothering abilities. I don't know what I was thinking.
My daughter pitched a fit today at the dentist. She screamed, she kicked, she yelled obscenities (well, OK, maybe not obscenities... but if she knew some obscene things to say I am willing to bet she would have said them.)
Thank God our dentist is a SAINT! Finally she asked me to leave the room-I assumed she was spanking my child, as this is what I wanted to do right there in the exam room. I stood behind the x-ray protector wall and listened as Dr. Kiki tried to reason with my child, tried to bribe my child, and finally tried to threaten her with never being able to see her family again. (OK, she didn't threaten her with not being able to see her family again-but that is the tactic that I would have used by golly.) What Dr. Kiki did not know is that my daughter is a determined child. She was not letting up... and she was not about to let anyone in her mouth. The screaming did not stop, the kicking only got more violent, and the thought of getting a new toothbrush and a sticker was so not worth my daughter giving in on this tantrum. She was too far gone-and she was not coming back to the world of "seen but not heard" children.
I just took a deep breath and resolved myself to the fact that I will always be labeled the mom who has screaming children. I was so hoping that I could make it through one kid without a warning label being put on their medical chart.
When all was said and done and Emma had to be held down by three people in order to get her teeth cleaned, the Hygienist looked at me and said "You are such a calm mom. How do you stay so calm?"
I looked her square in the eyes and said "Alcohol. I drink a lot of alcohol." and on that note we were out the door and down the street headed for McDonald's. I learned long ago that a bad day at that dentist is nothing a Happy Meal can't fix... or a bottle of wine.