Growing up, I had a love-hate relationship with my dentist.
I hated him because it seemed he loved torturing me. Now I realize that when he
once told me I was his worst patient, he wasn’t necessarily being mean, he was
just telling the truth. This week, Baby B had his very first trip to the
dentist. Afterwards, I called my mom and apologized.
We try not to project our own fears and concerns onto our
children. But it leaves me wondering if some fears and concerns- like most
people and their dentists- are only natural. I tried to prepare B the best I
could. When Drew scheduled a dentist appointment last week, I asked if B could
go along and watch, so he could witness how painless and positive the
experience could be. Notice, I didn’t invite him to any of my appointments.
Two days later when it was still fresh in his mind, he had
his first appointment. We went into the waiting room and he played with some
toys. We read a book about how great the dentist is. Then, we were called back
into the office by the assistant. B refused to sit in the chair, so I sat in
the chair and he sat in my lap. B refused to smile and take a photo for his
patient portfolio, so I had the assistant sneak a snapshot over my shoulder of
his sulking frown. He refused to pick a new toothbrush, even though they came
in several awesome colors with pictures of Transformers on them.
Despite how smoothly everything went with the assistant,
when the dentist walked in, B refused to open his mouth. The only tool on the
premises was that harmless mirror on a stick, but no matter how much we
reassured him that everything was fine, he wouldn’t back down. Then, I saw the
tears. Oh, those crocodile tears. The drama! The Horror! This strange man he’d met two days prior was
going to stick that mirror into his mouth and look at his teeth! It was awful! The
dentist got a quick look while B’s mouth was gaping open mid-scream, just
before he scrambled up my body onto my head, reaching for anything that would
take him away from this strange man.
I don’t think you really know parenting until you try to
calmly speak to a medical professional with a child wrapped around your face.
Luckily, the dentist seemed satisfied to find that B’s teeth
existed at all, and that was the end of the appointment. B gladly chose a toy
airplane on his way out of the office, and I’m sure the dentist and his staff
will gladly wait half a year before his next visit.
