The Dentist

Sigh.

This post has to begin with a sigh.

I took Hud to the dentist for his first cleaning yesterday.  I (gasp!) noticed calculus on his mandibular anteriors (tarter on his bottom front teeth to you lay-persons).  I was horrified but afraid I would poke him with my super sharp instrument if I attempted to get it off myself, so I took him in to Julie's office to let her have a crack at it.  He is so layed back I mistakingly thought he would do fine.  Maybe he wouldn't open his mouth wide or wiggle around but do ok otherwise.  I thought.  The minute I sat him in the chair and he started looking worried.

After I got the picture I put him in my lap to get cleaned up.  The second the chair started going back he started freaking out.  Crying, clutching onto me, saying "bye bye," the works.  He was grabbing on to me like a little monkey.  He was NOT having it.  Maybe the chair was too loud.  Maybe he was just weirded out to be in a different place.  Who knows.  My son hates the dentist.  Where did I go wrong?  I'm so disappointed.

Ok.  I'm here.  Might as well get my teeth cleaned.  We sat Hud up in the corner with some books and toys.  He didn't even want to sit and play.  He wanted O-U-T of this place.

Whatever.  Once he had a sucker, sticker, and knew we were leaving he was happy as ever.

Sigh.