It’s a typical Monday morning. My partner is off at work, and I’m still in my pajamas at 9 a.m., contemplating a pool day with my 2-year-old. Suddenly, my phone buzzes with a reminder: “Family Smile Dentistry looks forward to your daughter’s 10:30 appointment today!”
Panic sets in. Despite receiving multiple texts, a phone call, and a postcard from just down the street, I completely forgot it was my child’s two-year dental checkup. I feel like a character from Home Alone, frantically trying to prepare us for the appointment. Instead of cheerful background music, I find myself muttering mild expletives in front of my impressionable toddler.
We have less than an hour to shower, get dressed, and make it out the door. I switch on the iPad for some distraction, toss a couple of Little Critter and Berenstain Bears books about dental visits into my bag, and attempt to pull myself together.
Although the clinic likely doesn’t care if I arrive in mismatched pajamas and unkempt hair, I insist on looking somewhat presentable. A quick hair wash, some mascara, and a shave under my arms later, I realize my daughter has no clean clothes suitable for an outing. The only options without stains are a fancy Christmas dress, a cowboy outfit, and a Lilly Pulitzer dress I may or may not have elbowed someone for during a sale. Lilly Pulitzer it is.
As I’m finally about to leave, I remember the most important task I neglected: I haven’t brushed my daughter’s teeth. Now, I face a dilemma: either I brush them and risk being late or arrive on time with her teeth coated in the remnants of yesterday’s sweets. I settle on a compromise, letting her suck toothpaste off a toothbrush while we drive to Family Smile Dentistry.
Despite my clever workaround, we still arrive late. According to Murphy’s Law, when you’re running behind, the garage door malfunctions, a slow pedestrian crosses your path, and you must honk at at least two distracted drivers. Fortunately, the receptionist assures me it’s fine; the dentist is running behind schedule, too. She invites us to the waiting room, which is a colorful paradise of books, toys, and entertainment for children.
As I survey the space, I can’t help but notice the potential hazards—torn books, cluttered toys, and a stuffed lion that looks like it could harbor a few germs. My daughter, however, is blissfully unaware and joyfully dives into the chaos.
Soon, I glimpse the reason for the delay. A distressed mother storms out, berating the dentist for using fluoride toothpaste, convinced it’s harmful. Meanwhile, her son tugs at her shirt, pleading for a trip to the fast-food chain.
We’re eventually called in by a cheerful dental assistant who explains that my daughter will need X-rays. She climbs into the chair eagerly, but when faced with the large X-ray plate, her excitement quickly turns to tears. Despite the assistant’s efforts to reassure her, my daughter squirms and wails.
In a moment of desperation, I take on a superhero role, holding her mouth open while they capture the necessary images. The X-rays are done, though I can’t help but think my child’s future therapist may have extra work ahead.
Next, we move to the cleaning and examination room. My daughter now fully realizes the ordeal she’s in and refuses to sit in the dentist chair. After some negotiation, we settle on a position where her head rests on my knees, but this leads to more chaos—she begins to gag and, unfortunately, vomits everywhere. The assistant apologizes profusely while I try to maintain my composure, but my daughter’s cries continue.
Finally, the dentist enters and informs me that everything looks great. My daughter, still in distress, repeatedly chants “Mickey Mouse” while pointing to the television above her. I can’t believe we endured all that fuss without knowing there was a distraction right above us.
I thank the dentist and head towards the receptionist to handle insurance matters, but then I’m reminded: my daughter can’t eat or drink for 30 minutes after her cleaning. Naturally, she hears this and immediately demands food.
As we leave, the receptionist cheerfully says, “See you in six months!” I can’t help but feel like I’m living in Groundhog Day, navigating the same chaotic cycle over and over again.
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In summary, navigating a dental appointment with a toddler is a whirlwind of chaos, unexpected challenges, and the humor found in the little things.