Next Time It’s Mom’s Turn

This morning I took Braedon to his first dentist appointment. It was a wonderful time. The waiting room was stocked with plenty of toys that any child would find irresistible. And then, with the realization that I was the adult responsible for a three-year-old about to meet a dentist for the first time, the hygienist called for us to come on back to the examination room. That alone may have been enough to cause some sort of panic attack, but add to this dilemma the fact that the hygienist was competing with a bucket full of toys for Braedon’s undivided attention, and, well, more eyes were on us, awaiting the action to unfold, than on the television set in the waiting room. It was a hard fought battle, one that included screaming, dragging, and flailing limbs, but in the end, I won (at least in the sense that I met the objective of seating Braedon into the examination chair). Bent over from the kick to the groin, I retreated to the waiting room, which was now oddly quiet, and retrieved the shoes Braedon managed to fall out of during this little escapade. I am sure that the Dentist sees this type of debacle from time to time, and I must say that the hygienist, Ms. Janice, did an excellent job of calming Braedon down and explaining everything about his checkup to him, but I certainly felt like a first class jack ass….at least they said he has nice teeth. On a better note, while returning from this adventure, I noticed a sign for a local 5K. I called the race director, got the approval to push a stroller, and registered us for next weekend’s Santa’s Sleigh 5K.