A Day of Spring

It was gorgeous outside today. A big, fat TEASE by that old witch Mother Nature. Why dangle this beautiful 55* day in front of our noses, only to snatch it directly back out of our sights--with a big, huge, storm abrewin'. It's just not FAIR!

And how did I enjoy my eye-of-the-weather-hurricane day? I had to go to the DENTIST to get a CRAPPY filling. I've done a great job of taking care of my teeth lately (after the seven-cavities-and-a-root-canal fiasco of my first pregnancy), so I felt like a kid getting caught with her hands in the cookie jar (hmmmm....) when I was told I needed a filling. BUT! I've been doing so WELL! Well, so much for THAT!

I attempted to sweat it out and go without Novocaine, as the cavity wasn't too deep, but the vibrations of the drill were too much for my nerves. The dentist (I love this kind man--and he probably loves the yacht that my pregnancy-induced enamel-malaise from eight years ago presented him) gave me just enough of the juice to "take off the edge," and I was then able to submit to cavity filling again without the herky-jerky "Oh God, I FELT that!" motion which was previously hindering him. Sheesh. Natural childbirth THREE times, and I still can't handle a simple filling!

I made the mistake of making an AM appointment, so I had to drag two of my three children to my drilling date with me. I made the mistake of picking up the newspaper while waiting--and tuning out my goofy children. Before I knew it, millions of dental leaflets were being thrown around the waiting room, to the gleeful chorus of my two young'uns. I instantly turned into one of "those" parents--who had to give the stern looks and reprimands to her kids to cover up the embarrassment that the behavior was pretty much HER fault for ignoring her kids and not preventing the bad behavior in the first place. Consider me chagrined.

Knowing that I cannot trust Izzy and Keith together in the same waiting room (he just gets her up to all sorts of hijinks--case in point: dental leaflets strewn around the room), I brought Izzy back with me to witness my demise. The dentist had barely started whenever Keith just sort of wandered back into the room. The dentist was conciliatory, and the hygienist was amused. Keith and Izzy hunched down in the corner together and played with their toys (the only time I have recently let them bring toys out of the car and into a place of business--I was hoping to keep them quietly distracted--ha!). Yes, the dentist and hygienist were quite entertained by my kids' imaginations. Even I had to giggle--mid-drill--when Keith's transformer exclaimed, "Holy, Crickets!" to his foe the Bear. "Wow," says Sam, the dentist, "my kids mostly just fight." I was in too precarious of a position to throw back, "SO DO MINE--I DON'T KNOW WHY THEY'RE BEING SO GOOD, BUT THANK GOD!" But I'm sure he got the telepathic message my eyes were sending. The moochers begged for prizes (they are well aware now of the "treasure chest" for kids after dental visits) and were duly awarded. Imps. Then we went home. Mostly unscathed.

I have felt a bit under the weather (oh, HAR!) since last evening. But my poor vitamin D-starved kids demanded an outside excursion, and knowing we would not have this respite in just 24 hours hence, I played outside with them after school. Oh. So. Nice. Almost made me forget my tummy ache. Almost.

Bleh.