Onnn, Aaaaim onnn

Today's adventure started at 7:14 a.m. when we arrived at Dr. Friendly Oral Surgeon's office.

Since my children's teeth just DON'T fall out, like, I don't know, normal kids, we go to see him every now & then as the orthodontist dictates. So far I think at least a dozen of my kids' teeth have met their fates in his chair. I have the bills to prove it. ( I could have gotten more than one S-50, but that's beside the point.)

He's a really wonderful man- in his waiting room he proudly displays plaques & photos from his trips to Honduras to provide dental care for patients there as part of some children's charity. A kind, friendly man who wants to make this as easy as possible for scared little kids, and show them that it's not so bad, really, so that each time gets less stressful, instead of more.

We get to go there at a ridiculously early hour because kids can't eat for 6 hours before they get teeth yanked.

Here's about how it goes:

• First step - drink the kiddie version of valium, mixed in with apple juice. This is so that you can't run away. Heh... gotcha now.
  
• After you start to fade just a little , you get to go sit in The Big Chair and breathe in some "nice" air for a few minutes. I wonder if I can get that hooked up at my desk. Some days I could really use a little breath or two of "nice" air.
  
• Then Dr. FOS puts novocaine on your gums "so that your teeth go to sleep". Sleep? I think they've been sleeping. Just wake them up. Get them doing something, so that maybe they'll fall the hell out on their own.
  
• The preliminaries take much longer than the actual extractions, which take about 1 minute each despite the fact that he has to stand on my baby's chest with a giant pair of pliers to yank these suckers out....Note, they are too big for the Tooth Fairy cases (the Tooth Fairy is broke anyway because she has to leave $250 at Dr. FOS's office... man I hate my dental insurance)
  
  

• He packs the gaping holes with gauze, which my son promptly starts to chew, generating profuse amounts of drool, and triggering a mini panic attack in me because I just know he's going to swallow that gauze. I feel it in my bones.



• Then we get to bring Spaghetti- legs to the car, (or "my little drunken sailor" as I refer to him) and go home.

After I have thrown out my back hoisting him from the wheelchair into the explorer (duh, note to self: bring car next time, so that we can just sort of tip him in) we are on the way home. I get to sit in the back with him so I can deal with lovely messy things like barfing. It's always hysterically funny. (Yes, I am saving up for him to get therapy someday, why do you ask?) The funny thing is not the barfing. I'm not that mean. It's the little glimpses of what's going on in his mind.

Bear in mind he had a mouthful of gauze, he was numb from novocaine, and stoned on the little kids' version of valium they pass out. First he mumbled "rollercoaster" a little bit while I was switching his gauze. (His nasty, drool filled.... oh, sorry.)

Then he asked me why I have two heads. I caught that despite the fresh gauze stuffed in his mouth because I remember him asking me "eye ooo haaa ooo ess? " last time. I have asked myself that same question SO many times. Why DO I have two heads?

He started asking me "unh I waaaah aim onnn ? " over and over. I tried "what, buddy?" twice and then took out my palm pilot and brought up the notepad (shut up, I was desperate because he asked me over and over... I knew it wouldn't work...) This is what he wrote for me:

Note that he DID write "007' -- twice, he just wrote it backwards, that's all -- but he underlined it. I see 007. Catch a clue, mom. "Can I watch James Bond?"

Well, we got him home, brought him in to my bedroom and got James fired up on the dvd player. The last highlight of our adventure was getting his hooded sweatshirt off. His hooded sweatshirt which has gotten too tight, causing it to get STUCK on his head. Picture if you will, an intoxicated kid on a virtual rollercoaster, who can't find his way out of his own sweatshirt, and has someone pulling at it.

My poor baby. (snicker). Big fun. All before 9 a.m. Do I know how to partay or what??