Campaign Time

So, it's that time of year and many of you, I'm sure, have already chosen your candidate. For those of you who have not perhaps this will help:

(I'm sorry to all who are now reading this post, but I have had to remove the very funny campaign clip due to technical difficulties.)

In the Center Ring: The Dreaded Dentist vs. the Crazy Kid

Today was the dreaded day. The dentist day. Luke's first dentist day and in our family this will only be the first of many dreaded days at the dentist because of terrible teeth. Well, not actually terrible, just not great. I guess it has something to do with soft enamel or acidic saliva or some sort of combination of both which means that we need to fork out excessive amounts of cash to put fillings in baby teeth because we can't let those cavities mature because somehow it will do great harm to the big kid teeth hiding somewhere deep within those cavernous gums. Or some such thing. At any rate, knowing Luke and his aversion to anything that is not his idea and knowing how much he hates his hair cuts and how much he hates having his nails trimmed and how difficult brushing his teeth is, I knew today would be something of an adventure.

So our adventure begins with Luke falling asleep on the way to the dentist. It's never a good sign when you have to wake a sleeping toddler as you cart him to a place where he is going to be poked and prodded and he knows it. So we walked into the dentist office and the office manager said in her very smiley voice "oh is this Mitchell and Luke?" and Luke said "NO!" like maybe he was actually someone else and she was really rude to even consider that he was that other person.

Well, Mitchell had a great check up and for once we just got that news that we are only "watching" some spots. I think that these are the same "spots" we've been watching for a couple of years and, yes, they are different from the spots that were watched and deemed not good a visit or so ago resulting in another visit in order to fix those spots, but these particular spots are holding steady. I actually think the purpose of the dentist telling me we are watching spots is to scare me into flossing Mitchell's mouth every day or so. And it generally works, so his scare tactics really are quite effective, but after this next bit he might be reconsidering how frequently he wants my family in his office so I'm not sure we're going to be "watching spots" much longer, particularly since the receptionist did "forget" to schedule the next six month check up, so.......

So, here it is: Luke's turn. I should preface this by saying that today he has returned to saying his very emphatic "NO WAY, JOSE" which is good, I guess, since I was missing that little phrase coming out his mouth the last few weeks. But, since he was yelling this at the hygienist during Mitchell's entire appointment I did have a bad feeling about how his turn would turn out.


First of all, he refused to sit in "the chair" and then he refused to let that hygienist get anywhere near him and it didn't get any better when the dentist arrived. Luke proceeded to scream at the top of lungs from the moment the dentist walked into the room and didn't stop until we were in the car. I'll just summarize the ordeal with this: he bit, he screamed, he spit, he frothed at the mouth, he thrashed and thrashed and thrashed, and he had a look in his eyes that will probably haunt me for the next while because it seemed to saying "mom, this is killing me, literally, and I can't believe you would let this happen to me and I'm so scared and I'm possibly possessed by an evil spirit but you have to love me anyway!" He thrashed about so much that he kicked off his sneaker which the dentist very nicely picked up handed back to him, and then he proceeded to chuck it across the room as hard he could and refused to put that shoe back on no matter what. I guess it was tainted with the dentist's coodies.

But our adventure ends at the reception desk (with Luke clinging to me like a little monkey hanging onto its mother for dear life) where the boys picked out their prizes for behaving so well. Luke, who, I remind you, was still screaming, would not pick a prize....until he saw the bouncy balls and then he stopped crying long enough to choose his color before he resumed the noise. In an effort the soothe the kid, that very nice office manager offered him several other prizes and stickers, bribes in other words, all of which ended up in my purse because he claimed he didn't want them and so he was not to be pacified...until we reached the car and after thirty seconds or so he said, "Hey, I want my stickers." And with that it was done.

I can't wait for next time!

Someone else's blog

It's shameless really, my promotional plug for a fabulous blog. But really, how could I not? Its Jane's blog, after all; my darling little eldest child. And it's really all her...with just a little technical assistance, I guess. Anyway, check her out at jbugalicious2.blogspot.com. She's thrilled about this little adventure of hers!

It Begins Again.....

School is in session. Long, structured days have returned. Alarm clocks now buzz. Piano and soccer and running here and there and everywhere is in full swing. We've attended Back to School Night. Signed paper after paper after paper. Agreed to this and that. Paid for such and such. Produced the requisite documents. Joined the PTA, perhaps grudgingly. I've been oriented as a room mother, again. Now homework has begun in earnest. And, once more, we are becoming quite familiar with the halls of the school.

This was what Jane looked like on her first day:

Many days later (because Kindergartners must learn to be patient), this is what Mitchell looked like on his first day:

I think he actually did wear shoes to school, although I couldn't be entirely certain. What is certain is that after all this, everyday, at day's end, we are tired.