In Which The Kids See The Dentist

Oh ew, the smell.

The smell!

The awful dentist smell.

I tried not to gag when we walked into the dentist office. I’ve written before that I am not a fan of the dentist. I tend to have panic attacks when I’m around them. I have to pretend like I love them so I don’t scare the kids.

“You look weird,” Tommy observed as I checked in.

“I’m great!” I lied. What I really wanted to do was run out screaming.

“If I have a cavity, I’m not going to be happy,” Tommy informed me. Lovely. So not only did I have to calm myself down, I also had to worry that he might have a cavity. I hoped he didn’t have one. So far, he’s been lucky. I think it’s mainly because he only drinks water and he’s picky about what he eats. He’s heard horror stories about cavities and shots and it’s freaked him out.

Basically, if he had a cavity, he was going to have a meltdown.

Natalie, on the other hand, wasn’t worried at all. She loves the dentist. Mainly because she gets to pick out a toy at the end of the appointment. She was like, “I wonder what I’m going to bring home today?”

When the kids were called back, I took deep breaths. I was trying to pretend that I wasn’t at a dentist office. It wasn’t going well, thanks to the smell. And the fact that there were lots of dentists walking around. And, oh God, there were the dentist tools all laid out in front of me.

The cleaning went well for both of them. Natalie does much better at the dentist now that she’s older. When she was younger, she bit the dentist. I remember him shouting, “OUCH! That wasn’t nice!” and Natalie gave him a wicked smile like, “Well, then get your latexed fingers out of my mouth!”

You know what part I really hate? When they stick that tray of flouride in your mouth. I gag. Seriously. I have a terrible gag reflex and I would sit there and gag and gag and the denist would be all, “Hold still. Stop panicking.” I COULDN’T HELP IT!

The kids, thankfully, did fine. Though Tommy hated the taste.

“That was awful,” he informed the hygenist.

Then came the part where they had to find out if they had cavities.

“I’m scared,” Tommy told the dentist when she came over. “I don’t want a cavity.”

“Well, let’s see,” the dentist said. “Open wide.”

I started ripping off one of my nails. It’s a terrible habit, I know. I do it when I’m nervous.

“No cavities,” she said. Yes!

“Yay!” Tommy said.

Now it was Natalie’s turn. How would SHE handle a shot to her mouth? Not well, I bet. She freaks out if she runs into the couch lightly.

“I need an ice pack,” she’ll inform me.

If she had a cavity, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

“No cavities for you either,” the dentist said.

Double yay!

So Natalie was able to pick out a toy on the way out. She chose a plastic pink slinky—that broke within the hour she had it. But oh well, at least I didn’t have to deal with any dentist drama.

Let’s hope they continue to stay cavity free.