There’s an old wives tale that says, “Gain a child, lose a tooth.” Pleasant, right? Apparently, it’s supposedly not true, but since I’m currently in the middle of dental drama and have had dental issues after each pregnancy, I’ve decided it’s true. I go for my cleanings and everything, but at some point during pregnancy I actually feel my teeth getting sad and weak and know that I’m doomed to spend several hours in the dreaded chair after the baby’s born.
Except this time, it’s more like four teeth. So we’re sort of in dental triage mode right now. A few crowns, maybe a root canal, and a few fillings and I should be good to go.
Don’t get me wrong – I love my dentist. He’s amazing. When he gives me a needle to numb me up, I almost never feel it. He’s really good. It’s just my teeth I’m not fond of, I guess? And drilling. I’m not a fan of the drilling.
I had the first crown placed last week, and since then, Isla has been obsessed with the dentist. They gave her a pair of gloves, which was cute at first except she takes them off all the time and do you know how hard it is to put a pair of giant rubber gloves on small hands a zillion times a day? She’s also managed to scoff a dental mouth mirror and a few paper bibs, and she found one of Tahd’s headlamps, which she wears as a light to better see the teeth.
The piece de resistance came when she found a decorative chipboard crown we used at Jude’s birthday party (more on that later).
Can you see where this is going?
Yep, she lays out her animals and friends and installs the crown in their mouths, too.
She makes me laugh!