The Struggle is Real

I have to go to the dentist today.

I hate the dentist.  Not just my particular, current dentist, but all dentists.  Not the people themselves, just their professions.

I know it goes way back to childhood.  I had some horrid dentist coupled with some bad genetics.  I had lots of cavities and they would fill them all at once in a tiny room with lots of adults and drills and shots.  I remember fear and pain.  And shots.

And so I'm an awful mom.  My memories of the dentist get in the way of my own kiddos.  I hate taking them.  And I've even put off appointments.  I'm passing along my phobia.  (And it's not generational--my mom loves going to the dentist.  But then she's had very few problems.)

Actually, I've been very lucky.  Cavities as a child, now some wear at the gumline that hurts.  No root canals, no crowns.  Very lucky.

I hope I'm as lucky today.

But I still hate going.

Dentist Despair

In about 30 minutes, I have to pick up the kids early for dentist's appointments--I think I'm dreading it as much as they are.  I have dentist phobia myself, after years of childhood cavities, and the kids have gotten my teeth (and Pop's.)  Gommie loves the dentist, having had little work done.  The rest of us aren't that lucky.

The kids aren't great brushers.  I'm a good enough mom to worry about it but not good enough to stand over them twice a day to insist on better brushing anymore!  I mean, they're 8 1/2.  And they love to skip brushing or brush without paste.  Ugh.  I finally lost it a week or two ago, probably in anticipation of the looks the hygienists will give me today, and told them it wasn't just because I liked to nag them--that if they got cavities from not brushing, the dentist would have to give them a shot in their gums and then drill!!!  I almost had them in tears.  And didn't really mean to be that mean.

Not that it worked . . . .

Wish them, and me, luck today.

I'm probably overdue for my own cleaning, too.

I Know a Chicken

. . . and her name is Mommy Hungry.

I'm due for some dental work tomorrow. I went today for my regular checkup, knowing that things weren't good. See, I grind my teeth. So hard, in fact, that the nightguard I have is regularly dislodged from its place and therefore ineffective (because, scared of swallowing it, I either take it off or don't wear it). I even bit my cheek last night, apparently. And my molars in back have been sore from the pressure.

So, tomorrow I'm getting fitted for a new guard, which means more impressions--and I have a very sensitive gag reflex, so much so that last time he had to deaden my throat and I could still feel the spasms! And I need two of the abfraction lesions caused by the grinding filled, except Novacaine doesn't seem to work well on me and I felt him hit nerves half a dozen times or more last time. Ugh. He says he has an even better anaesthetic. Let's hope so. He wants this all done ASAP so I don't damage my teeth even more so I'm rushing to fill my 30 babysitter gap tomorrow.

All of which is to say, I'm now nervous. And will probably be grinding even more.

Break-fast

Okay, "break"-sayings related to my dental experience getting tired?

Couldn't resist a last one.

I don't know what caused it--the novacaine, my period, stress, hunger--but I'm not that interested in eating right now.  Which, of course, is odd.   Chewing solid food hurt the first day and then an upset stomach kept me from returning to regular food the second day.  Now, here on the third day, I'm not quite back to normal.

So, I'm eating bread.  Homemade bread.  From our first bread machine experiments.  And it's divine.  The kids even had some with me this morning:  Sis had hers as a toasted cheese sandwich; Bud's was a jelly sandwich.  Mine had a tiny smear (is that an oxymoron?) of marmalade, to go with my tea.  I might just be like Frances and eat bread and jam all day long.

-=-=-=-=-

Traditional White Bread for Bread Machine

Our favorite (and only) from scratch bread recipe.  Just remember to put the paddle in before you start, Mama!

1 cup lukewarm milk

2 tablespoons lukewarm water

3 tablespoons butter, melted

2 ½ tablespoons sugar

2 teaspoon salt

3 ¼ cup King Arthur Flour

2 ¼ teaspoons yeast

 

            Mix wet ingredients and place in pan first.  Add sugar, flour, and then yeast in that order.

            Bake.

 

bread machine instruction book

Breakthrough

Ah, the "chip" was a filling I'd forgotten that must have been shaken loose during the other repairs.  It's all fixed now, even sans novacaine (and didn't hurt.  Much).  So, while that was not a break, and PT kicked my butt again this morning (and TMI: I started my period and am cramping awfully), and I still am not really chewing much (too much jaw soreness), I did get a drink from my coffee place this morning.  Which was, indeed, the only break I've had and the one I was looking for.

Breakdown

Oh, blah.  One of the teeth I had fixed yesterday has a chip--not sure if it was damaged during the procedure, or if it was weakened and flaked later, but it means I'm calling the dentist this morning, going back in soon, and probably having another "break."

Gimme a Break

Incident #1:  When Mama suggested that going to the dentist would be some kind of break, I nearly bit her head off (of course, this was while I could still bite).

Incident #2:  When the dentist suggested that the visit would be some kind of break, I suggested he knock me out completely.  He didn't.  Instead, he realized that I'm the kind of patient not totally deadened by Novacaine because I could feel him hit nerves several times.  And this is work that will probably have to be repeated every 3-5 years (the filling of abfraction lesions, for those interested).  My kind of break.  If I were into S&M.

Incident #3:  When the kids heard me talk and try to smile, they looked at me, frightened.  It's the same look I get from Bud when I get my hair trimmed (or even washed).  "You're not Mommy.  I want you to be Mommy!"

Hell, with breaks like these, I'll stay at work, thank you very much.  

And I couldn't even go get coffee to make myself feel better.  But I did buy 3 pints of Haagen-Dazs.  For "dinner."