It’s a Monday morning, and while my partner is off at work, I’m still in my pajamas at 9 a.m. with plans to take my 2-year-old, Mia, to the pool. Then my phone buzzes with a text that jolts me awake: “Family Smile Dentistry is excited for Mia’s 10:30 appointment today!”
Panic floods in. Despite receiving three texts, a phone call, and even a postcard that could have been delivered by a carrier pigeon, I completely spaced on her two-year checkup. Suddenly, I’m channeling my inner Kevin McCallister from Home Alone, scrambling to get ready while managing a delightful toddler who’s already mimicking my every frantic word.
We have less than an hour to shower, dress, and prepare. I hand Mia the iPad to keep her entertained, grab a couple of books about the dentist, and throw on some semblance of an outfit. Sure, the clinic doesn’t care if I show up in pajamas and unkempt hair, but a bit of presentability feels necessary. A quick hair wash, a swipe of mascara, and yes, even a little grooming that I might skip for my own husband—he doesn’t require biannual dental prep.
As I glance at Mia’s wardrobe, I realize we’re in trouble. The only outfits that aren’t stained beyond recognition are her Christmas dress, a cowboy costume, and a Lilly Pulitzer dress I may or may not have elbowed a woman to acquire. Lilly Pulitzer it is for my little lady.
Just as I’m ready to leave, it hits me—I forgot the most crucial step: brushing Mia’s teeth. I face a dilemma worthy of a Hollywood script: do I brush her teeth and risk being late, or do I arrive on time with her teeth looking like they’ve been through a candy factory?
In a stroke of genius, I decide to let Mia suck toothpaste off her toothbrush as we drive to Family Smile Dentistry. Take that, parental dilemmas!
Yet, of course, we’re late. Murphy’s Law kicks in: the garage door won’t close, an elderly lady strolls leisurely across my path, and I find myself honking at two distracted drivers who still haven’t noticed the light has turned green.
When we finally arrive, the receptionist reassures me, “No worries! The dentist is running a bit behind. Please take a seat in the waiting room.”
Mia bolts toward the waiting area, which is a child’s paradise—20 books, two TVs playing different shows, a train table, and buckets of toys. I, however, see it as a disaster zone filled with torn books, TV shows that could induce a headache, and a giant stuffed lion that likely houses more germs than a playground.
Mia, oblivious to my concerns, dives into the chaos. I soon realize why the dentist is delayed: I see a mother storming out, berating the dentist for using fluoride toothpaste. “You’re poisoning my child! I read on parenting blogs…” Meanwhile, her child is tugging at her shirt, whining about a fast-food promise.
Once our turn arrives, a cheerful dental assistant greets us. She explains that Mia will need X-rays. Initially, Mia seems game, but when she sees the size of the X-ray piece, panic ensues. She wails as the assistant struggles to keep her still.
In a moment of desperation, I decide to play the hero and hold Mia’s mouth open while the team takes the X-rays. They manage to snap a few photos despite Mia’s protests.
Next, we move to the cleaning and examination room. Mia, now realizing the situation, refuses to sit in the dentist’s chair. We compromise by having her lie across my knees, but it’s a battle. Just as the assistant begins, Mia vomits everywhere. The assistant apologizes profusely while I try to maintain my composure, all while Mia continues to cry.
To make matters worse, the dentist finally arrives, only to inform me that Mia’s teeth look great, while my child is still fixated on “Mickey Mouse.” I soon discover there’s a TV above us playing cartoons—information that would have been incredibly useful just minutes ago!
After thanking the dentist, I navigate the insurance process when she taps my shoulder, reminding me Mia can’t eat or drink for 30 minutes post-cleaning. Naturally, Mia hears this and demands food immediately.
As we leave, the receptionist cheerfully says, “See you in six months!” I can’t help but feel like I’m stuck in a never-ending loop of chaos—like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, but with a toddler.
In the end, we survived another dental adventure. For anyone else navigating similar challenges, check out this insightful piece on pregnancy and home insemination for more helpful resources, or explore the at-home insemination options available, which might just make your journey a bit smoother.
Summary
Navigating a dentist appointment with a toddler can feel like a chaotic adventure filled with unexpected challenges. From forgetting to brush teeth to dealing with a dramatic waiting room, every moment is an opportunity for humor and reflection. With some creativity and a few distractions, even the toughest experiences can be survived—though they might leave you feeling like you’re in your own personal Groundhog Day.
Leave a Reply