This morning I read a beautifully written post that, as happens frequently with Mom-101, coursed its way through familiar grooves in my working-mom scar tissue. It was only an hour before that I’d been at the dentist, Finley in tow, to have Briar seen. A tooth ache last Thursday led to a Friday morning call, Friday afternoon antibiotic and a Monday morning appointment. Under any other circumstances this would have been a huge win.
Follow through, organization, resolution!
Unfortunately the I-got-this attitude that so often sees me through, came right up and kicked me in the ass. The pineapple and coconut gum numbing stuff wasn’t working, the anesthesia didn’t seem to take, and then Finley spied the needle. Briar began to buck, tears streamed silently down her cheeks and the walls closed in. I had two daughters I couldn’t soothe, an environment I couldn’t control and, of course, an audience. There were furrowed brows and barely concealed, stage-quality tsk-tsks. Finley should not have been there, I realized that, but it is in those moments when a decision is proven to be less than perfect, that we should try to spare judgement.
Give me a withering look as I leave, don’t gawk as my family endures the consequences of a decision made in an effort to ease the most pain. How about a “way-to-go” for having the kids at the dentist? An “Atta girl” for having books and dolls? Even a silent, appreciative nod for keeping them entertained and quiet in the lobby and for raising them to smile and respond to the sing-songy questions you ask?
My hands shook, my heart raced and an internal monologue of , “You just can’t ever get it right, can you ‘manda?” ran through my burning head. The failure of the bum tooth and even worse appointment throbbed, then the dentist looked at me and said that he wouldn’t be wiggling the tooth out today and that Briar had done great. I nearly crumpled to my knees.
She did great.
I know that. They both did. We all did. But here’s the thing, we have to go back. Briar will be resistant, terrified actually. My schedule won’t be any easier. Somehow we’ll still be a production, loud and sloppy compared to those around us. I dread it and already feel depleted and defeated. I have to shake this, because as the work-day transitions to at-home time, the pace doesn’t slow, their needs don’t soften to match my reserves.
I want to cry, the part of me that thinks if I’d watered the juice down longer or started brushing her teeth sooner that this wouldn’t have happened. I hate that in these low moments I allow the twisted idea that there is some parallel life that was mine for the taking had I made different decisions haunt me.
I am a good mom. These are happy and healthy girls despite a bad tooth here and there. Today was just a really low day.
I felt very much the same when Carter had a little bit of decay between his two little front baby teeth. I blamed myself for having soft, cavity prone teeth that I was sure had been passed down to him and for not giving him flouride supplements earlier. When we brought him to Dr. Sani, he and the nurses were so sweet in their assurances that it wasn’t our fault and we have always had a really enjoyable time- even when I had to bring an 18 mos. old wild child.
Oh, Amanda! Huge hugs for all of you. Do not beat yourself up this way! I have horrible weak teeth, it’s really just hereditary. Thank GOD my two boys have strong, healthy teeth they got from their fathers. I don’t remember what age I started serious brushing with either boy, but their good teeth are not my accomplishment. They’re just lucky in the genetic lottery.
Now for Miss Briar, who is going to be so scared to go back to the dentist. Tell her I said she is SO BRAVE! Such a good example for her sisters. If she’s really really scared, it’s worth it to ask the dentist about what kind of mild sedative is available for kids.
You are a great mom.
Thanks for sharing Amanda. You always seem to hit that mark of how us mommies feel. Whenever I am faced with a situation like this the only thing I can tell myself is that I do the best I can given the situation that I am , given the information that I have. Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me through!! Why oh why are we so plagued by this mommy guilt???
making you a virtual cup of tea right now — and sending a hug.
Oh, big hugs! You did a great job, too, and got her in right away. Cavities happen, so don’t beat yourself up. Our boys got the flu vaccine for the first time this year, and they both proceeded to get really sick from it. And I have to take them back for the second dose next month. I totally understand how you feel. Hang in there!
That last line nearly killed me – the notion that we have to say out loud that we are “good moms,” whether to remind ourselves or convince ourselves or just let the world know not to beat us up at this very moment–well, ugh.
Still, you are a good mom. You should hear it from more than yourself. Hugging you from afar.
Oof. I have a friend who has a daughter with difficult teeth. She is a feisty one as is her brother who has to attend dental visits with her.
I see how much it wrecks my friend so my heart goes out to you immensely.
xoxo
Found this blog via Mom-101 and it’s funny — we too went to the dentist today, for a regular cleaning, and to get Maggie’s 6 year molars sealed. Oh, and, um…to find out that she’s developed FIVE cavities since she saw the dentist 6 months ago (having never had a single cavity prior to this). (Yeah, I was thinking Bad Mommy too.) So now we have two unhappy November appointments to brace for — each for an hour, each involving probably pain and probably a needle. I may need some laughing gas myself, or Xanex. She doesn’t drink juice or eat lots of sweets. Heredity strikes yet again. So OH how I feel your pain. Should we swap for the next appointment, so we can at least be “novelty mom for a day?”
AW. It sucks. NOT your fault. Heredity is right. And an acid that some folks have in their systems.
You’re a great MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When I was told my son had 8 cavities at 4 years old, I thought they would just put the BAD MOM rock around my neck to serve as a warning to all those “better people” as my children meltdown here and there and I stand helplessly loving them through it.
You’re a good mom.
omg – I’m 63 yo and have adult children, and still feel this way at times. Does it ever end? No, we are always our children’s mom’s, no matter what their age. AND, it’s a quick slippery slope in to almost everything being our fault.
Re: the dentist – when my second child, Heather, was three, we took her to our close personal friend/pediatric dentist in Tacoma, video camera in hand. Little did we know, what a traumatic experience this would be – not a pretty picture, culminating in Heather vomiting over everything/one. And it was all captured on film – lucky us!
You are a terrific mom – amplified by the fact that you’re so able to share all of our own fears, doubts, and anxieties. Thank you for that. It makes me realize that maybe, I wasn’t the ‘only one’.
Dentists are the worst – the WORST! I was terrified of the dentist as a child and, although I tried very hard not to, I seemed to pass along this fear to one of my two children. I hated taking the kids to the dentist. Now the “kids” are in their 20’s and take themselves to the dentist regularly. But, I still get nauseous recalling visits to the dentist with my kids. You are a good mom. You will get through it and so will your kids.
This is the thing about parenting, the roar of your own failure is deafening and what you see and hear when you turn your attention to other families is organizational agility, emotional balance.
Thank you to each and every one of you who joined me here in my weepy Monday window and said that it was ok, or, even better, that it was familiar to you. I honestly believe that when we gather like this we all became stronger.
I am excited to return the favor someday. xo
{{HUGS}} We mamas are tough on ourselves. We shouldn’t be, we should marvel at the strength we have inside and the 90%+ times we got it right. Take care of yourself.
Jen
Beautifully written as always, Amanda. Parenting really is “the best of times and the worst of times” all rolled together, isn’t it? Who knew Dickens knew so much about motherhood? Congratulations on being a really great mom.
I hear you. Oh, I hear you. And the dentist? Touchy subject lately for me.
.. and you beat yourself up way too much.