This morning was the much-feared trip to the dentist. Knowing the probability of a full-blown Governor melt-down, I set my expectations low. I should have aimed for “none.”
Things started off on a promising note. We had yet another new hygienist. Her name was Chris, and she was wonderful. Very friendly, very comforting. And she took the time to introduce herself and talk a little bit about how our former hygienist had left to take a job closer to home.
The Senator climbed up into the chair first and was a model patient. Open mouth, hold still, rinse, spit. He was done before The Governor had time to break any expensive equipment. The dentist came in, did the final inspection, and The Senator was shooed out of the chair Delta Cum Laude.
Chris then invited The Governor to hop in the chair. He climbed aboard and got a kick out of riding up and tilting backwards. And then all enjoyment came to an abrupt end. He fought the polishing brush. He fought the mirror. He hated the bright light. He wouldn’t lay on his back. Floss? Not a chance in hell.
Chris eventually gave up, assuring me that this frequently happens on first-time visits and we were sure to have better luck in six months. The dentist came back into the room. He got a quick glance at The Gov’s teeth during a prolonged screaming fit and pronounced that since he couldn’t see any gaping black holes, The Gov was probably okay until the next appointment.
If we’re allowed back.
The boys got their new toothbrushes and The Senator got to rummage around in the hallowed Treasure Chest for a prize. The Governor had just stopped wailing when he realized that he was not going to be allowed to pick out a toy. Cue more screaming and crying. I think we were half-way home before he wore himself out and slumped in his car seat, exhausted and drained.
When November rolls around, I am pretty sure that The Governor’s dental appointment will ironically fall on one of those precious father-son bonding days. If not, The Governor can look forward to being the only kid in his sixth grade class with a full set of false teeth.
The Governor is my hero. :)
Posted by: Kevin at May 26, 2005 05:14 PMHEH! Don't tempt her. If she does that, she'll have them pump the kid so full of sedatives, he won't wake up until it's time for him to vote.
Posted by: Kevin at May 26, 2005 11:04 PMHeh. I shouldn't laugh, I know I shouldn't, but since I've BTDT and it's all in the semi-distant past, I actually can laugh.
We had one dentist appointment that was so bad that my dentist (the wimp) had his receptionist call me at home the next day to say he would no longer see my son. I retorted that was fine, but he would no longer be seeing anyone in my family, either, and that I would also be telling the insurance company we wouldn't see him anymore, as well as all my friends. I was livid. This was after ONE bad visit, when he had had at least two before that had gone very well by anyone's measure.
Kids are kids. They have bad days. Having someone poke around in your mouth is not fun, and sometimes even well-behaved kids freak out.
I proposed to my dentist that they give my son one more chance, and if there was a problem again, we would all go elsewhere. He agreed, and everything went fine. But things were dicey there for a while.
A couple of months ago this same kid had to be evaluated by both an orthodontist and a pediatric ENT. He was angelic for both appointments.
Hang in there, it does get better. Have you ever read Stanley Turecki's The Difficult Child? It's a bit older and not nearly as politically correct as a lot of the parenting stuff that's more current, but I found it tremendously helpful.
Posted by: Joan at May 27, 2005 02:35 PMOh! Yes, my husband did take my son to his next two or three dental appointments. Worked like a charm, scheduled them for his lunch hour!
Posted by: Joan at May 27, 2005 02:36 PMMaybe Uncle Bob and the Governor should go to the dentist together! The Governor for certain will look like an angel.
Posted by: Aunt S at May 27, 2005 05:46 PMGlad to see you didn't give in with the toy. I did the same thing once with Jack. He was perfect for the dentist but decided to be an ass AFTER the dentist was done. I'm sure the dentist thought I was the jerk. But no toy for Jack. Next trip: perfect. I saw another mom with the same problem once and she totally caved in when it was time for the toys. "Oh, okay, I guess you stopped screaming for six milliseconds back there, you can pick a toy even though I told you nine times you weren't going to get one."
Horrible little girl - 1, Mom - a zero
I almost took the toy away from the little brat when the mom wasn't looking.
Posted by: Bob at May 28, 2005 09:12 AMAfter my last visit to the Marque deSade I have not had the nerve to return. I was in pain that was ten times worse than child birth (from the descriptions I have heard from new mothers), I asked for something for the pain. The dentist said take some Advil. Great pain management skills. Good thing my MD is a little more enlightened, she served up the proper narcotics. The Gov is a bright little kid, he knows when he is about to be tortured.
Posted by: DaveP at May 31, 2005 02:02 PM