Does floss get stuck forever?

ARGGGGGGGGGGGGH!

That's the sound I ultimately make 20 minutes after I tell my lovely 8 year old that it's time to floss her teeth and she still won't let me near her mouth.

That girl could talk rubber off a tire - she has every excuse in the WORLD as to why she doesn't (and can't) floss. Lately it's: "It'll get stuck."

But at the end of the day (or night) it's ultimately terror. She is terrified of anyone trying to come towards her mouth. And I've tried to let her to floss herself but her attempts are insufficient - she just bounces the floss on the top of her teeth and exclaims, "I did it." No you didn't sister - I was watching.

She laughed the other day and I caught a glimpse into her mouth and the tarter and plaque we JUST got off her teeth at the dentist in December was back - she just doesn't take good care of her mouth.

So, here's my question to you parents: Will she outgrow this or is it time for some help? I asked her if she'd like to talk to someone about her fear because as I shake my head and think "What more can I do?", I am starting to think there isn't much more I really can do.

Oh, and yes, I still do pin her down to floss. Horrific. Bad parenting. Traumatic. But the only alternative is cavities and the *thought* of her having to deal with that is worth losing the Parent of the Year Award, for sure!!!

This little tooth went to market

This little tooth stayed home. This little tooth had roast beef. This little tooth had none. And this little tooth went wee-wee-wee-wee all the way home.

So there were only 3 little teeth, not five as the tale goes, but man...we are so glad they wiggled their way out of her mouth.

Oral surgery was a success - that is if you don't count the idiot move by Mom to give her a nice, cold, frosty vanilla ice cream from Micky D's on the way home that subsequently revisited us all over the living room rug as soon as we entered the house. (Note: wait until you are home and safe before feeding a child who is coming back to earth after being high as a kite.)

She doesn't remember a thing, so it was a success in that manner, but it certainly was not all that smooth. The nurse congratulated me for having the first child, in 5 years of her nursing career, to refuse to drink the sedative in the happy juice. She admitted she pulled out all her tricks and nothing was working.

What should have been one big gulp turned into 25 small sips and lots of whining, gagging and complaining. Obviously, it had minimal effect other than to slur her speech a tad going into the room. So they brought out the big guns. The injection. Not a good scene at all - not as it was going into her arm nor as she was drifting off to spend time with the Sand Man. Eventually she rested but she's one tough cookie.

Time to get her sedated: 40 minutes
Time to extract 3 loose bottom teeth: 5 minutes
Time to return to earth: Ongoing but 45 minutes in the office

Thankfully the staff consisted of three angels who made me feel comfortable and did what was best for Abby. There were moments on the ride home when she cried hysterically but not because it hurt but "because I am so happy".

Thank you tooth fairy for inventing soft spoken oral surgeons with good drugs. See you tonight. Hope you went to the bank.

What did the bunny bring you?

Thankfully for my waist, I'm not a big candy or chocolate fan so I don't dive into the kid's baskets when they are at school and consume my weight in chocolate. Their loot is pretty safe with me.

Funny enough, they didn't really dive in yesterday, either. In fact, they opted for our pathetic looking mini-bunny cakes at breakfast instead of a handful of chocolate.



When asked by family and friends about their Easter Baskets (The Bunny was on a tight budget this year so not NEARLY as exciting as years past), the two things they told everyone about were the new water guns and the pack of gum. We aren't talking super-soakers here. They are the small, leaky kind you get at Wal-greens, if The Bunny were to get his stuff from Wal-greens which he doesn't. And the gum...I've held off for a long time and lately they have been introduced to this sugary treat outside the house, so I'm trying to stay in control of it. It will be my pocketbook that is hit when those cavities start showing up!

They didn't mention the chocolate bunnies, the chocolate lollipop, the huge KitKat bar or the roll of Sweettarts. It was all about the gun and the gum. Weapons and Bubbalicious - should make next year a lot easier for The Bunny. Hand grenades and Juicy Fruit anyone?

When a nugget is not a nugget

Served the beloved chicken nuggets for dinner. Depending on the spend for the month I will rotate between the Perdue Dinosaurs or the supermarket variety. This month I had a coupon for the whole grain breaded Perdue version. I couldn't imagine there would be any difference - just another marketing gimmick to help us Moms pass off chicken nuggets as healthy food.

My daughter took one bite and exclaimed,

"THESE ARE DIFFERENT! I don't like them!"

Are you kidding me? They look, smell, and heat up exactly the same way in the microwave! This was supposed to be my guaranteed night that food would be consumed and there would be no complaining. Apparently almost 6yo can taste the different between completely processed and completely processed in whole grain breading nuggets. I give up.

Play by the rules

Ugh. I always play by the rules. One time, my husband and I had pit passes for a NASCAR race in Richmond, VA and they told us to stay together as a group and, with much anxiety, we decided to break the rules and venture off on our own. Nothing bad happened in our travels, but being a rules-addict I obviously remember this moment and must be scarred by it or else I wouldn't have shared it with you.

So when Abby's school sent home the notice that today was picture day and to follow the "Dress Down" section of the student handbook, I rushed to find our copy to read what is said:

Students should use discretion and dress appropriately for "dress down" days. Jeans or docker type pants are allowed. Students may wear ankle length non-baggy pants. Capris are allowed in warm weather...No sweatpants, windpants or skin tight, form fitting capris, jeans or other pants.

Her: "I don't want to wear jeans today. I want to wear a dress."

Me: "It's sort of chilly for a dress plus the handbook said jeans or dockers."

Her: "Awwwww...I don't like pants."

Me: "You have a pretty sweater on for your pictures today and we won't even see your jeans. You look beautiful."

I was on drop-off duty this morning since hubby had an early meeting at work. All the girls in her class were wearing dresses.

I suck at being a Mom.

Turning hate to love

Late last night I wrote a draft blog about what I see as the resurgence of hate in our country. 7 year old murdered. Anchorwoman murdered. Neo-nazi's planning assassinations. Then I tried to sleep last night. And I couldn't. I not only had a bad day at work but I had a bad feeling about our nation. And then it occurred to me...turn the focus from hate to love.

So, today I decided to trash my post and write about the lovely things that happened yesterday. Like how my daughter has her first set of rosary beads from school and at night she wants to do her prayers and always starts with,

"I Pledge Allegiance to the flag of the United States of America."

I tried to explain it's not a prayer, but since that is how they start their prayers each morning at school, I was told I am wrong. Quietly, I listened to her run through her prayers and I smiled. She only sees the good in this world.

And how my son was getting a candy out of his candy jar of Halloween candy from our fall festival this weekend and quietly he exclaims, "Mamacita" as he was digging to the bottom for his favorite taffy. I asked him what he said and he had a big grin on his face and explained,

"At my new school, Miss Karen says 'Mamacita' when we don't take our naps."

It was his soft, innocent voice exclaiming Mamacita that had all of us laughing around the dinner table.

And then when we carved our pumpkin for Halloween, my son put his hands inside the pumpkin and quickly pulled out his hands.

Him: "Mommy. I think I need gloves. Can I have gloves?"

Me: "Absolutely not. Get your hands inside and pull out that pumpkin spaghetti."

Within minutes his arms and elbows were covered in pumpkin.



Life will get me down. My kids will always bring me back up.

Welcome to the jungle

When we bought our current home we were pretty excited that they had completed the basement as a play room. My husband had worked tirelessly one summer at our other house to finish the basement and we really didn't want to let that extra space go when we moved.

So yesterday when the kids were overtired, overextended and over-juiced from a busy day at the local fall festival, I sent them to the basement.

I explained, again, that it is their room and if they want to play horses, fix pretend doors or play house, that they had a whole room downstairs in which to explore their inner child.

About an hour later, when I went downstairs to retrieve them for dinner, my mouth dropped. Not only was there a pile of misc. train track pieces at the end of the stairs but when I peeked around the corner into the room, it looked like an earthquake had hit our home. Every bucket, basket, dollhouse, train table, couch cushion, book, pipecleaner, art supply, dress-up outfit and toy had been dumped out and was scattered (or piled!) all over the floor.

I saw red. Then black. Then red again. I was furious! I felt my blood pressure rise, I got hot and then I was finally able to speak. I don't know exactly what I said, but I know it was loud and my husband came running down behind me. After threatening to take trick-or-treating privileges away, the clean up began.

I say this alot to friends and family, but I just go so sick when I see how much "stuff" my kids have. I'm totally to blame, but when we have clean up exercises like this it just makes me feel like there is no sense of appreciation or respect for gifts - nor do they understand what it could be like without all that "stuff". It's an internal battle I have with myself, but on this particular night at least I was able to vet out the Burger King and Happy Meal toys and throw them away. There was some satisfaction in that. If I never see another digi-toy or Disney movie character made of hard plastic, I'll be thrilled.

The basement looks great now. I think if this happens again, EVERYTHING will go in the trash and I'll have a nice little entertainment room downstairs with a full bar and wide screen TV - for adults only!!!

How do you see yourself?

I'm having a blast being in kindergarten. Here is why:





This was an exercise in what my daughter likes about herself. A few things to note:

Item #2 says "play basketball" - she's never really played a day in her life. Not one game. There is a net in our neighborhood that she occasionally tries to shoot the ball into but that's it. Maybe that's a subtle hint I should find out if I can sign her up some place.

She took the time to put the roots on her tree. How funny!

Lastly, it's so colorful. Just like my little angel.