Margs in a Bag

I have horrible teeth. There I said it! Part from genetics and part (may or may not) be due to poor dental hygiene when I was younger. But I’m not pointing fingers. šŸ˜‰ Needless to say, I suffer from a rare but usual form of dental appointment anxiety (DAA). Look it up, it may actually exist. Bottom line, I don’t enjoy the dentist…at all. Pregnancy also did a horrific number on my teeth as well. I’m not even sure my teeth would survive another pregnancy at this point. We’re talking like 8-12 cavities and a root canal, I’ve blocked out the exact number to save my sanity.

Needless to say, I hide my DAA at my son’s dental appointments because I want him to have a positive association with dentists. I’m nervous enough for both of us anyways! I make a point to take really good care of his teeth, but the whole genetics part I mentioned above is still out for debate. Although it’s appearing like he may have my husband’s teeth! Thank the Lord!

So there we are, sitting at his appointment doing those super comfortable bite wing x-rays because he’s just big enough in the mouth for them. Oh yay… As he’s looking at me like I’ve brought him here for the sole reason of torturing him, his x-rays pull up on the screen. I couldn’t tell if I would cry or pass out and in the words of Anna from “FROZEN”, I was “somewhere in thaaaat zoooone!” As if him recently turning five wasn’t enough for me, the hygienist pointed out all his permanent teeth that would soon be taking over his mouth. Huge thanks to the same hygienist, who in front of my child, proceeded to show me which teeth would be falling out before his next appointment. Not to mention (my favorite part) when she talked about how his sweet little precious momma boy face would change once he lost those teeth, into a big kid’s face. No, no, no, and no! I don’t want any of this to happen, so no. Stop it now!

I literally needed a bag to breath in…or a margarita. I wasn’t sure which, but I needed something. Anything! So that’s when I had the idea that Pediatric Dentists should serve margs in a bag. Drink then breathe. The concept needs a bit of tweaking, but I’m onto something I think. I feel like that’s the least us parents deserve when going to these appointments and learning, in yet another aspect of life, their kids will never stop growing and time with them is slipping through our fingers.

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