Double the fun at the Orthodontist

I'm over a year into this orthodontic torture, and I've forgotten why I wanted straight teeth.

The other day I went to the orthodontist for my regular 4 week tweek.  Fenna and Gracie were at school, Charlie was at his dad's house, and so I only needed a sitter for Libby. None of my friends offered to take her except one, and she was pretty busy so I didn't want to add Libby to her busy day. I'm getting tired of trying to find a sitter every month for a 90 minute time slot.  I am starting to feel like I have to bed and plead. At first, my mama friends were eager to swap babysitting a little here and a little there, but they've gotten tired of that I guess. I'm going to have to start paying a real babysitter to cover my appointments. Anyway, I was lucky enough to get an offer from my next door neighbor and so Libby had a place to play while I went to the dentist. The neighbor has three dogs and so Libby was pretty excited to go to her puppy playdate. She took a bag of milkbones; she had a great time.

I told the sitter I'd be gone an hour, maybe a little more.  My appointment was at 10am and I'm usually done by 11am. Ok, off I went.

I arrived right at 10:00. I was called back at 10:50. Seriously? What was taking so long? They must think the clients have no lives; everyone has ample time to sit in the waiting room endlessly. And they must think people enjoy it.  Why else would I be there 50 freaking minutes?  So far, the appointment isn't going well.

Finally, I was called back to the torture chamber and I waited for so long that I was happy about it. Maybe that's why they make people wait so long. Clever trick!

Leonard is my favorite assistant. He's big and strong and quick; he's smart, polite and has skills. The girls that work in there are too afraid to hurt me so they take forever and that just hurts more. The orthodontist came and looked me over and told Leonard what to do. He said to put on four more brackets on my very back molars and then change the wires to a thicker one. Leonard questioned him on the wire size, said ok and he got to work. First thing first, I must have the cheek spreader on today. Oh no! Not that thing! My face does not spread out that far. I've been told I have a big mouth, but it's not big enough for the face spreader. Torture!

And then he crammed triangle wedges in my jaw. Those things hurt! He blew dry my teeth, scraped them a bit, rinse, blow dry again. Then he glued on the brackets. Oh that glue stinks! Even worse than Leonard's bubble gum smelling gloves! But, he finally got done installing more mechanics in my mouth and I was good to go. My mouth wasn't happy but I was glad to finally leave, at 11:30! yikes.

While driving away, Ping! One of the brackets popped right off! Seriously? Nooooo! I pulled over and applied a wad of wax to the end of the wire and spit out the bracket. Great, now I have the end of  a very sharp wire stabbing the back of my jaw.

I went and picked up Libby and offered her a picnic lunch at the park because she was such a good girl for my neighbor.  My neighbor taught her how to play angry birds and use a drawing program on her iphone. Great, spoil my kid, thanks. She claims she didn't, but my kid already knew how! Amazing, kids take to electronics so easily.

A Happy Meal, a picnic blanket and a park made the afternoon almost perfect. The wad of wax on the end of my wire would not stay put so I was being stabbed, but otherwise the day was looking up. Until the other upper bracket popped off. Now I was being stabbed by sharp wires on both sides of my mouth! Ouch! I tried using french fries as padding. They were getting mushy and bloody. That was just gross. I decided to call for another appointment, and it was going to have to be today.

The appointment desk said I could come in but I had to be there after 2pm and before 4pm, no way could I go at 2pm because I wouldn't have enough time before I had to do the school pick-up and that usually takes an hour. I told her I'd be there at 3:15. Yay, only three hours of being stabbed. Wait, yay? Ugh, these braces are making me crazy!

When I went to pick up the girls from school, Libby fell asleep in her carseat. This worked out great! When she is asleep, she's a floppy ragdoll. Fenna was kind enough to take Gracie to the Starbucks next door to the dentist while I put Miss Floppy in the stroller and went in. They took me straight back.

The lip spreader went back on and the triangle wedges shoved back in. My mouth was still sore and tired from the first round of torture and now I'm laying here doing it again. The orthodontist came by and I should note, he's not the regular guy, he's the alternate doc.  Leonard asked him if he should use a smaller wire since the larger wire was too strong and pulled the brackets off. The doc agreed, that was the problem. Geez, I'm laying here enduring a second torture and its all the dentist's fault. I remember my favorite teeth tweeker asked him about that earlier! Leonard worked fast with his stinky "fun flavored" gloves and stinky glue. Leonard rocks.

While I was laying in the chair in pain and trying not to gag, I thought to myself, "I should have gotten a boob job instead of braces. Same result: better looking. Faster. Probably less painful. And if I had a boob job, nobody would notice my crooked teeth."

Little Bo Peep and her bleeding sheep

Listening to "Little Bo Peep" song in the van.
Libby, "Noooo! I don't like this song!"
Me, "Why?"
"The sheep are dead and bloody".
Me, "Oh, this is gonna be good".
Libby, "Is not good! The sheep are bleeding!"
I'm trying to listen, Libby is screaming, and sure enough in the second verse the song says "Little Bo-peep fell fast asleep, And dreamt she heard them bleating".
Me, "Bleating! The sheep are bleating!"
Libby, "I know! Cuz they're dead."
And so we discuss the linguistic difference between bleating and bleeding; and we discuss how some of the old English has been lost in translation over time. Who says you can't have a meaningful conversation with a 3 year old.

The Ikea Project

I made it my mission for the day to clean up my kitchen and dining room. After getting the kids off to school and downing a half a pot of coffee, I went to the kitchen to tackle the problem of the day. I went in there and just looked around and thought, "ugh". And then I spied it, the real reason my kitchen never feels good.

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I don't know who designed this house, but it was obviously a man who didn't appreciate his wife. There is a "breakfast nook" that honestly shouldn't be there. It should be cabinet and counter space. I have a nice large kitchen but everything is crammed into one corner and the rest of the space is poorly designed. We use the breakfast table (it came with the house) as a counter and we've stacked the microwave and pizza oven on it. Then, we added a "snack table" next to it for cereal and chips and all that sort of thing. There is never room for it in the cabinets. Sure, it works, but it's not pretty.

And then I turned to look at the dining room. The table is covered with Kindergarten homework, crayons, markers, etc. The kid really needs her own space to study. She can have Fenna's desk and chair next year, but in the meantime  her mess might drive me crazy. I had no idea Kindergarten would require a study space at home. The world has changed and I did not plan for it.

Just looking at my messes inspired me. Finally. Sometimes inspiration takes too long. I should have thought of this years and years ago! I'll run to Ikea and buy a cabinet! And a little table and chairs set for homework and little tea parties. What time is it? Yes! I can make it! Libby, put your shoes on!

Off we went to Ikea.  It's an hour long drive on a good day, so if we are lucky and don't get in any traffic jams we should be able to get there, shop, have lunch and drive home in time to pick up the girls from school. Score!

And that's how it happened. I bought a kitchen cabinet, a desk and a chair. The little table and chairs sets were too small for my tall Kindergartener.

Little did I know that Ikea things come in hundreds of pieces. And they take hours to assemble. Days, actually. And tools. Tools! I don't know how to work tools! To top it off, Ikea assembly instructions have no words, just a picture booklet. I needed help. Keith is gonna love me for this!

Keith spent two days putting together the cabinet. He understood the instructions and got that puzzle put together! It's so nice!

I put together the desk. It also took me two days. I spent $20 on the desk and it took at least 20 hours to assemble. I ended up with four extra pieces and a lot of extra screws and gizmos. Keith says there shouldn't be any extra pieces or screws. Well, there were. I had holes that didn't line up! I followed the instructions, but it still happened that I got four pieces attached upside down resulting in screwholes in all the wrong places and no screwholes in the right places. Since Keith told me to glue as I went, I couldn't take it apart and start over. Oh well, it seems solid enough without all of the extra parts. The kid is going to do her homework on it, not jump around on it; it is solid enough.

The chair was hard to put together too! I spent a few hours wrestling with it, but after crying for help it finally came together. Thanks, Keith.

The Ikea projects are done. They look great and they work great! But, the sink is still full of dirty dishes.

Someone bit me in the checkout line

I was standing in line to pay and got bit! I was at Ikea, does that detail matter? On a whim, I hopped in the van, gassed up, and hit the road. On the way, I decided to call Katie and have her meet me there since I had this sudden urge to buy something big and heavy. She's skinny, but she's strong. Lucky for me she was free and able to meet up at Ikea! Of  course she brought her cute little guy, Henry. He has 4 or 5 teeth now. A month ago he didn't have any. I was holding him and getting some really good hugs while we stood in the checkout line and then YOUCH! The kid bit me. I guess I didn't mind too much.   

Our trip to Ikea wasn't without incident, of course, I wouldn't be me if I had an uneventful day. Libby wanted to go into the ball pit. Ikea offers free child care for one hour and they have a nice play room with a huge ball pit. Libby has never been big enough to go in, but we tried today to see if she grew enough. She did! 37" is the minimum and she made it! First time in the ball pit! So exciting! We got our matching identification wristbands and  she went on in with a great big grin on her face. Ok, big girl, see you in an hour. 

My how time flies when you are free of all children and running through the Ikea maze. Wheeee! Katie called me when she arrived; Libby had been in the pit for 20 minutes or so. I told Katie that I left her in the child care and I was upstairs in the kitchen section. Katie looked in and said, "Mom, she's crying." 

Katie said Libby was just standing there in the play area looking sad and pouting. Nobody was paying any attention to her. Libby turned and saw Katie through the window and really started crying. She wanted outa there! Katie couldn't get her out since I am the one who had the matching wristband. I ran wildly through the store back to the child pit. I was farther back in the store than I thought I was.  

I got her out of there as quickly as I could, she had been in for 30 minutes. I figured she was hurt; I swear, this kid is always getting creamed on playground by bigger wilder kids. I asked her if she was hurt and she said between sobs that her feelings were hurt. Why? "Gracie wasn't there." Ohhhh no. Big sister is at school!  Libby calmed down and decided to shop with us instead of staying in the child care. I don't think they wanted her back anyway. Next time we'll bring her sister.

I showed Katie the three display items of the things I was going to buy. She approved, mostly. We had lunch and then went to check out. I was really pushing it for time. I had to get back home to pick up the kids from their schools. 

I bought everything I needed, after being bitten. Then we sat and waited for the big kitchen cabinet to be loaded onto a cart for me from the back room. I put the van in the loading zone and tried to pull the boxes off of the cart and put them into the van. I couldn't budge them! Super-Katie to the rescue! She just put the boxes in the van like they were no big deal. I don't know how she does it with those skinny little arms!

Luckily, I pulled into town just in time to pull up in front of the high school and not leave the teenager wondering if I've forgotten her yet again. Oddly enough, this is much more difficult to do when I have all afternoon free.  Went to pick up the kindergartener too, and all was well. 

That reminds me, they decided to let Kindergarten out at 2:30 now instead of 2:45 because of the increase in class size. This makes no sense to me, but it does make it difficult to pick up both kids at different schools at the same time. I told Gracie they are giving her an extra recess at the end of the day. She totally bought it! Score one for Mom!

Anyway, I pulled into the driveway with a van full of kids and Ikea merchandise.  My next door neighbor pulled into her driveway too. Sweet! I hollered, "Hey, come over! Yes, right now. Come're!"  Then I opened the trunk and said, "Thanks for coming to help me unload these really heavy boxes. Just put them in the house."  She said I was kinda tricky but she was more than happy to help and she moved those boxes in like they were nothing. I tried to help but couldn't lift anything. I think I hurt my shoulder trying. Really, it still hurts. 

Except for being bitten on one shoulder and straining the other one trying to be as strong as normal people, it was a great day. Libby almost had a great day too! It was really nice to have people around when I really needed them. I don't know how I thought I was going to load and unload my van. Apparently, I wasn't thinking. Totally lucked out! Yay!

 

 

 

 

An Awkward Memory

It's 7am, I just poured my second cup of coffee and a silly memory popped into my head for no apparent reason.  But it made me laugh at myself so I'll share!

Katie and Lexie were young, but I don't remember exactly  how old they were. Must have been around age 5 or 6ish. Maybe 8. I dunno, something like that. And I don't remember which kid this was; let's blame Lexie.

We were eating at a buffet restaurant and Lexie (probably) had to use the bathroom. She was just old enough that I let her go by herself. I was nervous, but we were seating right next to the bathrooms so I could see if anyone else went in or if she was having trouble with the door, or I could just stare at the bathroom door with anxiety until she came out. Sure, go by yourself, big girl.

She did. She went to the bathroom and went in. I waited and waited and waited.

She was taking too long. She was in there way too long.  I tried to give her ample time to take care of business, but she'd been in there way too long. Maybe she fell in. Maybe she can't open the door to get out. Maybe... oh, let's not go there, crazy imagination!

I went to rescue her. I'm sure I flew out of my seat and sprinted to the bathroom after finally freeing myself from the restraints of parenting an independent child. Mother bear took over.  Mother Bear and Freespirit Mom often duke it out in my head. One wants to hover and protect at all times and one wants to let 'em live and learn. It can get ugly between them.

I flung the door open and ran into the bathroom only to find it empty. Nobody was in there! I started calling her name. Nothing. Nobody. PANIC!!! I ran out to go tell someone to call the police and let my husband know that our child went missing, and there she was at our table.

"Hi Mom. Why were you in the Men's bathroom?"  What?  Oh, geez, I was! That's why there was a urinal in there, I hardly noticed it. Husband was sitting there laughing hysterically. I bet he saw me go in the wrong door. 

My rescue skills have improved since then. I think. I'm not going to let the little girls go into a public restroom by themselves anytime soon though.

What a crazy memory to start off my day!

I need to learn how to stick the landing

This is what happens when you let a teenager hold your camera... 

Yup, she will catch your most photogenic moments and then laugh at you. She will. Teenagers are like that.

Kindergarten, Take 3

Yup, another kindergarten for Gracie. 

 Sorta. 

There was a sudden change at her charter school and two teachers were cut from the budget. Gracie's teacher moved to a different class and the two kindergarten classes were merged together with the other teacher. So, Gracie is now with a new teacher in a new room, but same school and same kids. It sucks because now there are 29 kids in the class! 

I'm sad because I really loved her teacher and she was a great fit for Gracie's personality. She moved up to 1st grade, so I'll be requesting her next year!

The good part of these changes is that the two Kindergarten teachers worked closely together and used the same curriculum. Plus, she's had her half of the class for months and knows them well; she really only needs to get to know the new half. I'm sure she has seen them here and there and isn't completely unfamiliar with the students. Of course, the students all know each other as well.  This takes a lot of the "new" out of this new setup. 

Amazing as it sounds, the teacher's aid was able to keep her job! Usually, these people are the first to be cut out of a school budget. She's an important person though. This makes two adults in the room with 29 five-year-olds. I don't even want to think about what it would be like without the assistant!

Honestly, I don't think my outgoing loud kid will have trouble adjusting socially or emotionally. A bigger crowd just means she will be louder and more demanding, but she will get attention if she wants it. I do worry about academics though. She thrives on individual attention, lacks focus and needs a teacher to guide her and keep her on task. Left to her own devices, I'm afraid she won't get much done. She's five. 

I loved that her Montessori class had 18 students as opposed to the 25 that were in her class at Tovoshal. Well, now that bubble has burst! 

She had her first day in her new class today, also the first day back after the winter break. She was so excited to go back to school! I explained the changes to her and she seemed to understand. After school I picked her up and asked her all about her day.

It was crowded and there were too many kids, but it was fun.  Miss Tiffany was happy almost all day long (the assistant). Timothy brought a piece of candy in his lunch box and he wasn't allowed to eat it because it is a no-sugar school, the teacher reminded all of the kids not to bring candy.  Sarah was grabbing Gracie's dress and pulling it up so she could see Gracie's underwear. Gracie told her no ten thousand times and she wouldn't stop and the teachers didn't notice.  Everyone can tie their shoes now except Gracie and Elsa, but Elsa wears shoes with velcro. Velcro is really cool. They didn't have art, just markers.  It was so super awesome - they got to have recess three times instead of two! When is my real teacher coming back?

My goodness, the overcrowding problems sure didn't take long to surface! Some kid yanking my kid's dress up to look at her  undies? No bueno! I know they can't see it all with that many kids. I bet the kid with the candy ate it anyway, who would ever know?  

I talked to the teacher this morning about the underwear incident and pointed out the lack of attention to it. My kid is wearing pants today and will be wearing booty shorts or something under her dresses from now on. She wears dresses, that's who she is. I understand the kids are five, the other one probably just wanted to see. Panties are adorable these days with all the colors, stripes, polka dots, princesses and stuff all over them. I'm giving the kid the benefit of the doubt and assuming there wasn't any weird reason for wanting to see, just being a little kid who doesn't understand the rules of our social culture. I just hope she knows which kid is mine and which one is the pantie peeker. 

With any luck at all, my kindergarten kid will end the year smarter and still happy as can be. Three kindergartens isn't her fault, but she's the one who has to deal with it and adjust to the changes. Maybe this will be good for her! You never know which childhood experiences will be the greatest influences on your child's adult life. I'm hoping this will be inspirational and not something that sends her to therapy. Keep your fingers crossed!