Dentist Love

Farmer had a dentist appointment this week. I couldn’t really remember the reason for the appointment, but that’s what happens when you have to keep track of 5 people’s appointments. And it’s not like we only go twice a year for cleanings—Oh no—we go at least two other times for fillings (each kid and parent). And then there’s referrals to orthodontists, oral surgeons, ENT’s, and whatever else. But I digress. Farmer’s last appointment (for a filling) went great. He went right in, let the dentist do her thing, and he came out with a smile, a sticker, and a pencil. This time, however, he went back, plopped into the chair, and wouldn’t open his mouth. I was distracted by the poopy diaper that I discovered as we entered the office, but I finally went back there to use both positive and negative reinforcement. I tried to call his Dad, who is usually able to talk him into anything just over the phone, but Dad was at football practice. The scene ended with Farmer screaming like a banshee (he will demo that for you anytime). I DO NOT put up with public fits, so I took him to the restroom. What happened in there is censored. But we came out, he sat in the chair, and…wouldn’t open his mouth. In fact, he was lying on his stomach. I said, do you want to go back to the restroom? He shook his head. I said, ONE… and he slowly turned on his back and opened his mouth. He was an angel after that. So, I was able to breast feed in the waiting room while Bauer played on the iPod.
The best part of the story happened when we got back in the van. Farmer says (out of the blue, but I think it had something to do with a piece of sugar free candy from the office) “Bauer is a good brother. I love you Bauer.” WHOA, this coming from a boy who purposely leaves Bauer out of his bedtime prayers on a routine basis. I was thrilled, and I told him so. Then we went to get a Wendy’s frosty. Who cares about fluoride anyway?