It's been two years, but I finally went to the dentist today for a check up and cleaning. I think my last dental experience of finding out that I had 14 cavities and then having to get them filled made me a little shy. This time was way less traumatic, thank God. However, is there anything more awkward than someone else sticking their hands in your mouth while you mentally obsess about whether or not you accidentally licked their hand? Is my tongue making obscene gestures without me knowing it? What if my jaw gets tired and I end up biting her? Uh-oh, now I might giggle and choke on all that extra spittle that's gathering in the back of my throat. Ah, good times at the dentist!
In between all these awkward thoughts I managed to try to imagine Isaac at the dentist to gauge whether or not I think he's ready to go. The short answer is: not yet. The kid squirms and complains that I'm tickling him just when I try to get him dressed in the morning. Every morning. I can't imagine him cooperating for a dental visit quite yet. Maybe when he's four.
Haircuts are another thing we put off with Isaac as long as we can get away with it. We've only had one successful tear-free haircut in a history of many, many haircuts. And that was because daddy went first. It's not that Isaac is scared, it's that he hates the way it feels. He hates all those little loose hairs poking at his skin when they land. He always marches himself sobbing up to the tub after every haircut. But it's definitely that time again so I need to plan my strategy. I think we'll pretend to cut daddy's hair first, and then cover Isaac up as best I can to protect him from those pesky little hairs before trying to cut it as short, even, and quickly as possible. The other HUGE factor is finding a day when his sensory sensitivity is low and his mood is good. Today would not be a good choice. Isaac had a rough morning at school. Miss Minda said he kept asking for me after gym class and was just sad all day. He was still sad when I picked him up, the wind bothered him, etc. He couldn't tell me why he was sad when I questioned him. I'm choosing to believe (and it could be true) that he just missed me. A haircut today would mean a screaming, crying, torture session. So we'll put it off a little longer.
For now we'll focus on getting through this gray day. Isaac has already requested to make some pizza to which I plead ignorance and said he'll have to wait til daddy gets home. Mommy will do cookies, but she's not ready for rolling out dough yet! The word of the day is procrastinate, and that I can do.