baby teeth: here there, everywhere

We're still losing baby teeth, it feels like most weeks there's at least one.  It's happened more than once, that we've lost the exact same tooth, on the exact same day.

The look on William's face: this is the expression of a 13-year old boy who is really annoyed that his mother is capturing the moment when he and his triplet sister lost their top left canine cuspids.  We've been getting this look a lot these days. Tooth or no tooth.  It's really quite delightful in backwards world.  #DeepBreaths. #ItsAPhase. #ThisTooShallPass. #LoveThemAllTheTime.



This revolving tooth inventory can be problematic for a Tooth Fairy, who has short-term memory loss, is busy trying to remember to take a lot of deep breaths, and tends to go to sleep right after the kids do, when they should instead be zipping around the world and perkily trading out teeth for cash.

At our house, it typically happens that Mrs. Tooth Fairy remembers just before she's about to fall asleep and gasps loudly, "OH NO!" which awakens Mr. Tooth Fairy, who flies out of bed as if on wings.  And thus a search begins for small bills.  Ones are ideal, because the exchange rate here is 1 tooth = $2 dollars.  But a few times the Tooth Fairy has slipped the children a $5 and once a $20, but that isn't really sustainable with so many teeth falling out.  It's best to keep the bar low, since once all the teeth have ceased falling out, the Tooth Fairy will need $$$$ for four sets of braces.

Also, the Tooth Fairy doesn't usually have cash on hand, so it has been known to happen the children have awoken to find their tooth replaced with a stack of quarters, dimes or nickels.  Gone are the days when the Tooth Fairy could raid their piggy banks because these kids know how much cash they have - at all times.  Sometimes, the Tooth Fairy slips a lost tooth in their pocket and then totally forgets about it. For several nights in a row. Which prompts a letter like this one:



Hmmm … Oops.

brace yourself

A few years ago, at least three or four, we were told by our pediatric dentist that it looked "highly likely" that our triplet children would "benefit from orthodontic treatment."

Our expert dentist was able to decipher by looking at x-rays for teeth that wouldn't even erupt for another few years, that when those teeth did erupt, they'd do so in a highly unorganized fashion.

Two years ago, we were told by our pediatric dentist that the time was RIPE to put our children in orthodontic treatment. But they were only seven and this seemed ridiculously early to me, since our children lose their teeth later than the average child, and at that point, had only lost one or two baby teeth.  But the seed had been planted that braces would be coming soon, so we've been preparing ourselves, at least mentally.

As for financially ... well. If I thought it was expensive to have three babies in diapers at once, that's nothing like having three children in braces at once.  And because I always like to focus on the positive, this experience is undoubtedly preparing us for the shock of seeing our bank account drain when we have three children in college at once. 

Last year, we were referred to what would be the first of five orthodontists that we would consult with regarding the various treatment options.  If I remember correctly, two of the orthodontists suggested that we extract teeth to make room for the teeth that were rapidly descending; and three of the orthodontists suggested that we install palette expanders to make room for the teeth that were rapidly descending.  Neither option sounded particularly good to me, so I ignored all of the advice and prayed that I'd wake up and our children would still be toddlers dancing in circles to This is the Day. 

Ignoring it didn't help, especially once I saw that the pediatric dentist's were correct and our children's adult teeth really were growing in, Dragonfish Style. My sweet Carolyn's teeth were so crowded in her mouth, her gums were red and inflamed and extremely sensitive to touch.



So I finally concluded that regardless of which approach we took - something must be done soon because there would physically be no room in our children's mouths for all their adult teeth, and their new teeth would be jutting out of at all kinds of funky angles.  We settled on one of the orthodontists that proposed the palette expander because he was highly recommended, and was able to offer us the most significant discount for having three children in treatment at once. 

Two weeks ago, the children had spacers installed on their back molars, and yesterday, they were each fitted with a palette expander. Once we paid the bill, for this first phase of braces which should effectively cover our orthodontist's mortgage through the end of the year - they gave each of our children (and Louie) a stuffed animal. 

Charlie was trained on how he needs to crank open the palette expander every day, for the next 25 days.  He sat perched on a stool in the orthodontist's office, facing our three children who were reclined in dental chairs, and absorbed every word.  "Now make sure that you only crank the palette expander ONCE per day," the technician stressed.  "We've had people misunderstand the instructions or think they can collapse a one-month treatment in to a single night, so they crank the expander 25 times at once."  

The whole palette expander contraption is torturous enough to look at, I can't even imagine the pain of having a whole month of expansions in a single day.  

Baby A:


Baby B (I think that pink stuff is watermelon...):


Baby C:

The palette expander will remain on for at least the next six months.  In four weeks, the children will have braces installed on their top teeth; it is anticipated these braces will remain on from 6 to 18 months.  Once they're removed, the children will be fitted with retainers which they'll wear until the rest of their adult teeth come in, and they are able to have their second phase of braces placed when they're around 13 or so years old.

When I came home from work yesterday, the girls were dancing around the house and giddy about their new lisp.  Charlie had them saying things like, "Seven dwarfs doing handstands on the carpet..." and "Sixty six snakes slithered down the sidewalk..."

Even though he has the green light to eat all the yogurt he wants, William was in despair.

While it absolutely pains me that my son is upset about his orthodontia, and I would trade places with him in a minute if I could and because I cannot, have made sure to keep him current on his Tylenol dosage ... it was an interesting case in comparison, that our girls were dancing and laughing while our son was formulating ways to pull his expander out.  To try and take his mind off the discomfort, I talked to the kids about the theory that the pain threshold / tolerance for girls is higher than it is for boys. And then, to try and give them all a good laugh, I showed them the Man Cold video clip.

The girls thought it was hilarious. 



William, not so much.

My poor little bunny.  :(

my little thumbsucker

At some point within the next few months, it appears all three of the triplets will be in braces.  The whole braces "situation" is a post in and of itself ... including how we've visited six orthodontists for their extremely varied opinions and have debated whether we even need this first phase of braces at all.   Now that we're on the threshold of making what appears to be a commitment to the first phase of braces, which are required to make room in tiny mouths for big denticles, we've been told that Elizabeth, who is an avid thumbsucker, will need to cease sucking her thumb, immediately.

And while YES, I recognize that sucking a thumb somewhat defeats the purpose of braces, I don't want to push my daughter in to giving up her thumb sucking until she is ready.  I'm adamant about this because I, too, was an avid thumbsucker and I distinctly remember how much comfort my left thumb gave me. I also remember people suggesting various tricks like bitter apple, or a glove, to deter me from sucking my thumb and although I tried all the tricks - nothing worked.   Eventually, I got to a point ~ at approximately the age of 13 ~ when on my own terms I didn't feel the need to suck my thumb anymore and I gave it up.  And the braces that I'd been in since I was 11, remained on my teeth until I was 15 and my teeth came out great.  Even despite my thumb sucking, ha!

So whenever we go visit dentists or orthodontists, and they vehemently tell Elizabeth she MUST stop sucking her thumb or her teeth will be ruined forever, and they'll tempt her with gifts if she's able to quit; or threaten her with gear that will be fitted across her palate so she physically can't suck her thumb anymore, I'll always give her a wink that says, "Don't you worry, Sweetie. You can suck your thumb for as long as you want and I promise, your teeth will still be beautiful."

Now...  while I clearly support Elizabeth's choice to suck her thumb; I do not support that she sucks her thumb all the live long day.   And what I've noticed is that whenever Elizabeth has Bunny in hand, the other hand is in her mouth.  So my rule to try and limit the amount of thumb sucking, is that Elizabeth can have Bunny only at night when she goes to sleep.  Each morning, Bunny is hidden somewhere so she is not tempted. Seems easy enough, right?

As it turns out, Elizabeth doesn't much care for my totally lame 'No Bunny During the Day' rule and frequently breaks it.  As soon as she walks in the door from school, she'll throw her backpack down and set off like a rabid bloodhound to discover where we hid Bunny and if she finds Bunny, she'll suck her thumb like a crazed addict.  One day last week, after witnessing this maniacal behavior when she was so distracted sucking her thumb that she was totally oblivious to the world around her, I decided to take Bunny with me on a business trip to Houston.  It would be an overnight Adventure for Bunny, and a brief thumb sucking reprieve for Elizabeth.

Just before I walked out the door to the airport, I slipped a briefly unattended Bunny in to my backpack and snapped a picture.  Then once my car arrived, I took another picture of Bunny, with every intention to e-mail them to Charlie and Elizabeth.  Alas, before I had a chance to send the message, I received a text from Charlie, who was anxiously inquiring if I had Bunny?

BUNNY IS MISSING AND ELIZABETH IS BORDERING ON HYSTERIA. 

"Yes," I told him. "Bunny is safe with me and we're going on an ADVENTURE!"



This news was not greeted with the excitement I'd been expecting.  So over the next day, I snapped off a load of pictures to show Elizabeth just how much "fun" Bunny was having with me.

Because I'm crazy fun and do wild things like check myself in at the airport! 



Here we are on our way through security ... P-U!  What is that smell, Bunny?



Bunny waiting for the terminal train.



Bunny on the moving sidewalk.



We stopped to get dinner, and although Bunny told me he'd pick up the tab, he forgot his wallet.

Sneaky Bunny!



Uh, where are we going again?



We're on board! Although, why do the wings turn up like that?

ARE THEY BROKEN?

Did you pack a parachute?! 



Parachute, Smarachute!

They've got The LEGO Movie?!

Please, oh please oh please oh please oh please?!



After a one-hour delay, the plane took off and we flew somewhere, over the rainbow.



And through some huge clouds.



Bunny enjoyed a light beverage.



And then a few hours later, we landed in a stormy Houston.



Welcome to Houston, Bunny!



We rode the bus to the rental car terminal.



And then Bunny helped me navigate to our destination.



We checked in to our hotel.



And Bunny made a quick bio-break.

PRIVACY, PLEASE!



The next morning, Bunny was up with the sun to take a shower.



Bunny styled his fur.



And checked out his Do...



Before trying to call Elizabeth at home.



I attended my meeting while Bunny slept in my bag. And 24 hours after we'd arrived, just as we were preparing to leave Houston and fly back home, I received notice that our flight was delayed.

Then it was delayed again.

And again. 

Before I received confirmation that our flight had been canceled. And our new flight wouldn't depart until the next afternoon.  Mad scrambling ensued, that included calls to Emergency Travel Agents who were able to put us on a flight that would arrive in Maryland at 1:00 AM, because Bunny had somewhere to be. 



We had a few minutes once we arrived at the airport for dinner, so Bunny and I split a chicken burrito and cerveza.  (That was our plane in the background....)



We safely arrived home at nearly 3 AM and Bunny was tucked in to bed with a sleeping Elizabeth.  All was once again well in the land of Elizabunny.

Fast forward exactly one week. 

Yesterday, on the way to Girl Scouts, Elizabeth took a bad header down the stairs. She had been running, but tried to abruptly stop because she thought she saw a caterpillar and was afraid she would squash it. As a result of her compassionate behavior and subsequent fall, she badly scraped her elbow, knee, and hip.  We learned today, that she also fractured her left wrist.



The left wrist that is attached to the most magnificent left sucking thumb.  Elizabeth has an appointment tomorrow morning with an orthopedist, at which time I suspect she'll be fitted for a cast and whether or not she'll be able to continue sucking her thumb remains to be seen.



While I recognize this is potentially a very good opportunity for her to give up the thumb sucking habit,  I know that if there was ever a time in life when my sweet girl needed the comfort of her thumb, this would have to be it.

picture yourself in a boat on a river with tangerine trees and marmalade skies

During our first visit to the pediatric dentist ... way back when the triplets were 18-months old, we were told that Elizabeth had a labial frenulum on her bottom lip. The dentist told us that one day, it might need to be clipped, if it caused any problem with her teeth.   

Even though I still brush (or closely supervise) the children's teeth brushing every night - I haven't really noticed that the gum surrounding one of Elizabeth's lower teeth was receding until the dentist pointed it out to me during our last visit.  And of course once I saw it - I felt like a dope that I'd missed it because it was so obvious. We were told that the frenulum needed to be removed and the lower gum needed a graft. But because our dentist doesn't perform those types of procedures in their office, we were referred to a periodontist. 

Elizabeth and I went for the periodontal consultation last month, because as it turns out - I need a gum graft, too.  My lower gums have receded as a result of this whole aging thing and I now have to carry a toothpick with me at all times.  The periodontist felt that Elizabeth's procedure was more time critical than mine, so she was scheduled to go first.  

Today was her procedure and I took the day off from work so I could be with her. 

The front office staff gave her an oversized toy toothbrush and stuffed walrus to hold, and the periodontist let her wear his glasses.  

They gave her nitrous oxide to take off the edge and as I watched her, she completely checked out. Her eyes were open - but she was in a different world.  After a minute or two, her eyes focused on me and she slowly said, "Mom ... I'm swimming in purple Jell-O!"

The doctor gave her a shot to numb her gums and unlike Henry, who had a minor dental procedure last month to remove an inflamed salivary gland and could be heard screaming two doors down, Elizabeth didn't flinch.  She just quietly said, "Ow. I felt that."

The nitrous oxide stayed on the whole time and everything was going fine, until the doctor cranked up the oxygen on the nitrous solution and as Elizabeth zoned back in to reality - she asked if she could look at her mouth. And before I could contemplate the repercussions of my daughter looking at her own cut and bleeding tissue, she was handed a mirror and all the blood drained from her face. 

Approximately 12 stitches later, she took one last look at the finished product.

 

We went to the store and bought ice cream. A lot of ice cream. And by the time we arrived home, my poor little one was in tears.  When I asked her if she would come with me and hold my hand when I had to have my procedure completed, she shook her head and said, "No, I'm sorry but I can't go back there. I'll be too freaked out." Then she picked up my camera and said, "Here, take a picture of me. You can look at this and imagine I'm there swimming with you in the purple Jell-O."  

Here's my little trooper tonight ... laying in our bed, eating her third bowl of ice cream, watching the Miss USA pageant while waiting for Daddy to come home with her prescription for Tylenol with codeine. 

The only thing I regret more than not having her prescription filled sooner in the day, is that I should have gone first so I'd know what to expect and could have been better prepared for managing her pain because Tylenol straight-up just wasn't enough.  Or, why didn't I do the procedure when she was younger, before her gums receded?  And why didn't I do more research about alternatives to skin grafts?  Surely there could have been other options. Just tonight, I found this. 

Ugh. It's so hard to see your children in pain so of course, the normal thing to do is inflict some of it on yourself. 

December 2

Much to my surprise, William's tooth didn't fall out while he slept last night. So when he woke up this morning and it continued to rattle about his mouth, his frustration passed the point of no return. He, himself, couldn't pull it out, he didn't let the one person in the family who would pull it out anywhere near him, tying a string to a door was inconceivable (!), and the tears were on a slow drip for much of the day.

I can't eat apples! 

I can't eat bagels! 

I can't even communicate! 

Oo ee ow I alk? I an't ove i ips!!

Finally, after a consult with our new neighbors (whom are both dentists) and they gave me a quick tutorial on tooth extraction, I mustered the courage and sequestered him to the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the tub, I took a piece of tissue paper, dried off his tooth - pinched the tooth just beneath the gum - and I gave a tug. There was a bit of resistance and under normal circumstances, I would have let go of the tooth and run out of the bathroom, screaming. But these weren't ordinary circumstances: my son desperately needed for me to get rid of that tooth.  So I didn't let go, I closed my eyes, suppressed the urge to scream and I yanked.  

POP! Out came the tooth with nary a sound effect (thank goodness, I would have died) and instantly, his mood shifted and he was back to himself.  For the rest of the evening, he was so appreciative and kept thanking me, in between bites of apples and bagels and talking nonstop. "Mom, you're the greatest. Thank you so much. I can't believe it's gone. I feel so much better. Did I say thank you? Thank you so much, Mom. You're the greatest.  Hey Mom? Thanks."

If I thought it wasn't possible to love this little guy any more before ... I was wrong. 

Our relationship has now reached an all new level. 

come on, amoxicillin!

Last Saturday I opened up a new 1,000-piece puzzle for our family to complete. And is often the case, once a new puzzle is opened, we are distracted by putting it together until it is finished. I should probably add that earlier in the day, we'd taken the children for a 10-mile bicycle ride along the Washington & Old Dominion (aka: W&OD) trail and everyone was feeling puckered out. So there Charlie and I are, stealing a quiet moment to work on the puzzle, while the kids are downstairs playing.

The puzzle is emerging before our eyes when we hear a THUMP followed by screaming. The kind of screaming that causes a parent's legs to start running in the direction of the scream before they've even processed what's happened.  When I reached the top of the stairs, the first person I saw coming up the steps was William who with wide eyes was telling me, "It wasn't my fault! I didn't do it!!" and the next person I saw was Henry, who was still screaming as blood gushed out of his mouth.

Running down the steps and scooping up my youngest, I find myself yelling, "WHAT HAPPENED?!"and behind me, I can hear the kids trying to sort out the series of events which had transpired and have caused blood to pour from their little brother's mouth.

He tripped.

He was pushed.

It was a meteor!

None of it mattered. All that mattered to me was that I figured out where the blood was coming from and that I stopped it, immediately.  Perching him on the kitchen table, I felt absolutely nauseous having to look in to his mouth. Not because of the blood, per se, but because of the FEAR that he would have lost yet ANOTHER tooth two or more years ahead of schedule.  Why in the world did I think that the children could play safely downstairs without me hovering over them?

Me = Idiot.

Very, very carefully, I look in to Henry's mouth and I can't see anything except blood. So I scoop him off the table and carry him in to the kitchen where I perch him on the counter and direct him to spit in to the sink. I look in to his mouth again and am relieved to see that his teeth are all intact and the copious blood is coming from somewhere other than his gums.  For at least five long minutes, he had to sit and continue spitting in to the sink because the bleeding was so profuse. I tore off paper towels, dampened them under the faucet and placed them in his cheek to try and stem the flood.  Eventually, we moved to the couch, me holding him in my arms, him crying deliriously because of the pain.

His siblings, meanwhile, had set about making him cards. They drew pictures of crosses and hearts and faces dripping with tears. They also tried to explain what had happened. They were playing tag and Elizabeth was chasing Henry when he tripped and fell - face first - on the corner of our train table. The whole thing happened so fast, he wasn't able to put out his hands and block his fall and there was blood all over the carpeting and stairs.

Suddenly, I remembered the warning of our pediatric dentist...

Coffee tables are the #1 cause of tooth and mouth injury to toddlers and small children.  

(Followed closely by angry mothers.)

As Henry laid in my arms, we administered Tylenol and my sweet boy fell asleep. It was only 5:30 at night, but he was so traumatized by the event, he passed out.

On Sunday, his cheek was swollen, as expected.

On Monday, it looked even worse.

On Tuesday, I took him to the pediatrician for what was supposed to be his five-year-old "Well Child" check-up. It instead turned in to an evaluation of Henry's cheek. The doctor told us that it looked like a terrible bruise but she didn't see anything that would suggest he had fractured his jaw.

On Wednesday, it looked even worse. On Wednesday evening, I put the kids to bed at 7:00 because I needed to get some work wrapped up. Henry was awake at 8:00 PM, crying because he was "firsty" and needed a drink. At 9:00 PM, Henry woke up crying again because he was covered in sweat. I peeled his pajama top off him and turned his ceiling fan on low.  At 10:00 PM, he woke up crying and when I walked in to his room he was tossing and turning in distress. Although it was dark in the room, I could see that his cheek was so swollen it was shiny.  And my maternal alarm sounded ...

WOOP! WOOP! WOOP!!!



Charlie was getting ready for bed, but I called him in to the boys' room and said, "This is serious. He needs to go to the Emergency Room - RIGHT NOW."  My husband, bless him, was exhausted and ready for sleep. "Are you sure this can't wait until the morning? I can take him in, first thing..."

Nope. He needs to go, right now. His cheek looks like it's abscessed and although I've never seen an abscess in my life, I'd bet my 401K that's exactly what this is.

Then I cried actual tears (true story) because I really wanted to take Henry to the ER myself, but I had a critical work deliverable that was due in the morning, so I had to stay home and press on.

Charlie got dressed, while I packed Henry's blanket, teddy bear and a small pillow since I suspected that they'd be waiting awhile.  Then I gave my little boy a scoop of vanilla ice cream to take along on the car ride because the poor child couldn't stop crying.

(Note: Vanilla ice cream is MAGIC.)

Long story short, his cheek was abscessed. The doctor told Charlie it was a GOOD thing he brought him in that night (yay maternal instinct!) as he prescribed an antibiotic and referred him to an ENT the following morning. Charlie trooped off to the ENT with all the kids in tow and was informed, after an almost 2-hour wait, that if the antibiotics didn't do the trick by Saturday, Henry would need to go in for surgery to have it drained.

Tomorrow is Saturday.

Fingers crossed. 

seizing an opportunity

Tonight as the children were enjoying dessert, Carolyn's front tooth, which has been wiggling and waggling all around her mouth for the past several weeks, abruptly twisted sideways.



After she ran around the house looking for me (pre-occupied with tucking her little brother in to bed) she ran back in to the kitchen and told her anxious to yank it tooth-pulling father, "It's OK Dad, I've got this...." And then my precious girl reached in to her mouth and gave a slight tug. Out came the little tooth. The tiny tooth that I remember seeing burst through her top gums not very long ago. It was sentimental moment for me - seeing my first child with no front teeth (lost by the grace of nature, as opposed to a mom gone mad).  As I turned the tiny tooth over in my hand, inspecting this important dental artifact, Carolyn suggested that maybe Uncle Michael could have her teeth made in to a necklace or earrings for me?

(Uncle Michael, no need to look in to that just yet. Until such time that I'm adopted by an African indigenous tribe, I'm not sure such jewelry would be a good compliment to my wardrobe.) 

This picture totally cracks me up. As Carolyn is showing off her new smile, her sister is wolfing down her Skinny Cow ice cream sandwich.  See this??



THIS is precisely what happens when you turn your back around here.

tooth fairy loans

Up until yesterday, our children had collectively lost a total of five teeth.

Because Carolyn teetered on the brink of hysteria anytime we'd even look at one of her loose teeth, we weren't allowed to touch them or smirk at them or say anything remotely related to tooth extraction without her screaming.

SCREAMING.

So in the course of sleeping or eating, she has swallowed all three of the teeth that she had thus far lost. Within the last month, through Elizabeth's lost tooth and the one that I inadvertently knocked out of Henry's mouth, we've had our first two teeth for the tooth fairy pillow. Just yesterday, within the span of eight hours, from last night until early this morning, we've now lost two and a half additional teeth, taking our grand total of lost teeth to seven and a half.

Yesterday afternoon, William was playing lacrosse with our neighbors and was hit in the face with the lacrosse stick by his sister, Elizabeth, effectively chipping his lower tooth. Shortly thereafter, Carolyn who has had two teeth jutting out of her mouth at various angles, that were continually shifting, finally disengaged. I'd been suggesting that she just YANK her teeth out of her mouth because HOW CAN SHE STAND IT? It was sticking in to her lip and then in to her tongue, and ack!!

She finally consented that she'd try to pull it out by herself. So we wrapped a small paper towel around her tooth and she stood, staring in the mirror, and debating whether this is something she could do for the next hour.

And then ...

Oh!

It was out!!!

She was so excited ... IT WAS OUT!

That distracting obstruction that had been in her mouth was finally out. And the excitement was so great because although she'd lost three prior teeth, she was in possession of her very first lost tooth. She eagerly tucked it in to the tooth fairy pillow before climbing in to bed.

Before we turned in for the night, Charlie and I remembered that we needed to exchange her tooth for money, but because neither of us had anything smaller than a $10.00, which seemed too high, we turned to Plan B which consisted of putting change in her pillow. We both agreed that was no good.

So we turned to Plan C which consisted of us running off to the grocery store and getting cash back at 10PM. We both agreed that was also no good.

So we turned to Plan D which consisted of us removing the plug from her piggy bank and taking out a few dollars. My husband thought that was a TERRIBLE idea. But the thought of change in the pillow or running out at 10 PM or the tooth fairy not coming at all was even more terrible. So Charlie unplugged her pink piggy bank and "borrowed" two dollars.

Well, the premeditated act of losing a tooth was such an awesome experience, that our daughter was up this morning at 5 AM (largely due to our little puppy that was wide awake!! and yapping!! and ready!! to play!!) begging her father to help her take out her front tooth.

Which he did. And the child that was terrified of losing a tooth is now a tooth pull junkie. She is furiously wiggling other teeth in her mouth, anxious for the next one to fall out so she can get more green money.

Tonight, we had to once again confiscate money from her piggy bank. We fully recognize that we'll need to (eventually) replace the money that we've been borrowing because on the day that she opens that piggy bank and realizes that she only has TWO DOLLARS for all the teeth that she's lost, she's totally going to be on to us.

tooth tales

Telling my husband that I knocked our son's tooth out of his mouth was/is almost as painful as the knowledge of what had happened.

When Charlie called me from the airport, inquiring why I wasn't there to pick him up, I recapped the events of the day. And he said, and I quote, "What do you mean you knocked out his tooth? You're kidding. RIGHT?"

No. I'm not kidding.

And hey, remember that time I was upset with you because you left the oven door open for a split second when you were taking out a pizza and the baby crawled over and put his hands on the 300+ degree door?

Three years later ... I forgive you.

Forgiveness is good.

(Although, I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive myself.)

When we sat down for breakfast on Sunday morning, and both my husband and I were choking back tears watching our little boy try to eat soft foods with his Nanny McPhee tooth jutting out of his mouth, William felt compelled to discuss his feelings surrounding The Incident.

So he said, "Mom, after you picked Henry up from the ground and you saw that his mouth was bleeding and his tooth was gone? You said, 'OH. THIS IS GREAT! LOOK WHAT I DID! THIS IS AWESOME. I KNOCKED MY BABY'S TOOTH OUT OF HIS MOUTH. GREAT JOB MOM! WELL DONE!'"

(It's true. That's exactly what I said, verbatim.)

William sighed before continuing, "Mom? I've been thinking about it and I really don't think you were being AWESOME and I don't think it was GREAT that you knocked my little brother's tooth out of his mouth."

So I explained what "sarcasm" means.

"William, the reason I removed Henry from beneath the table with such haste was not because I wanted to knock his tooth out of his mouth, it's because I was genuinely afraid he was going to get his teeth kicked in by his siblings who were wildly flailing their legs and kicking him in the face. Does that make sense?"

William considered this and then gave me a nod. "Yeah, it makes sense. But maybe you should have just left him there since if you hadn't pulled him out, he'd still have his tooth?"

So I then explained what "ironic" means.

I found the tooth on Saturday night when I was sweeping the kitchen. It surprised me to see how big it was, but according to the pediatric dentist the roots aren't "degraded" until the adult tooth grows in. So it's appropriate the root would be so long on a tooth that wasn't supposed to fall out for another four years.

The good news: the entire tooth fell out. So an extraction isn't necessary.

The bad news: The Entire Tooth Fell Out. And the fate of his fragile Nanny McPhee front tooth is currently unknown. I'm just thankful corn-on-the-cob is no longer in season since Henry really loves corn-on-the-cob.

*Sob!*

The Tooth Fairy came to visit this past Monday night. Henry carefully tucked his tooth in to the Tooth Fairy pillow before climbing in to bed and clenching his eyes closed to expedite the arrival of the winged bringer of monetary reward.

When he awoke on Tuesday morning, he found that the Tooth Fairy had left him a $1.00 bill in exchange for his tooth. In addition, he found a Toy Story 3 collector set that the Tooth Fairy had snagged from a small inventory Santa Clause was planning to distribute at Christmas.

The children were incredulous. "MOM. Why did Henry get TOYS for his tooth? Doesn't the Tooth Fairy only bring money?" And I explained, yes, except in those incredibly rare situations when a tooth falls out FOUR YEARS sooner than it's supposed to. AND it's 100% the mother's fault.

In which case, once could deduce the Tooth Fairy shares my guilt complex.

three for three

Carolyn lost her third tooth, tonight.



Following suit of the other two, it went down the pipe as my daughter ate a slice of watermelon. Once again, we have nothing to place under her pillow for the tooth fairy. And once again, the tooth fairy will need to make a gastrointestinal rescue, so that my children are not in any way, shape or form, compelled to sift through the contents of a potty and retrieve it on their own volition. Now please, keep in mind, I would never accuse my children of such a heinous act if I hadn't personally overheard their conversation where they were plotting such a "rescue mission" following the loss/ingestion of the first tooth.

William doesn't have any loose teeth of his own, so he is becoming increasingly frustrated that his sister won't give him a tooth for his collection. And at the rate we're going, I fully recognize that I need to quickly get over the squeamishness that comes from plucking a loose tooth out of my child's mouth if I ever hope to actually have a tooth to place under a pillow. But that of course begs the question of what exactly does one do with a child's tooth once it is retrieved from beneath a pillow?

Does the tooth fairy save them up and make a maraca?

Or, stuff them in a drawer next to a dried up umbilical cord stump?

Do people actually save their children's teeth? Is it possible that they lose all their cuteness once they fall out of a child's mouth? Because right now, despite the fact I don't want to physically extract one OUT of my child's mouth, I'm oddly attached to those little chompers and can't imagine just throwing them away with the trash.

Speaking of children's teeth...

We found a fantastic new pediatric dentist a few weeks ago and she gave to us these awesome little sand timers that we* now use whenever we brush the children's teeth to show exactly how long we need to brush (two minutes.) I've been thinking that a great Halloween idea might be to buy a 40-pack of these (that works out to $0.60/per) and hand them out next October along with some nice shiny red organic apples in lieu of Snickers bars.

(What do you think that says about me? Perhaps, "I am so practical and would absolutely LOVE to have my house egged!")



(I say "we" because I once read that an adult should brush their child's teeth until the child is capable of tying their own shoes. Since our children mostly wear slip-on Keens or Crocs, we might still be brushing their teeth when they're twelve unless I run out and buy them some sneakers.)

That's me in the mirror there.



Yes, that's a headlamp that I'm wearing. Why? Because it helps me to see my children's teeth better when I'm brushing them. And yes, I'm almost positively certain the reason I've been having increasing difficulty focusing on objects within a foot of my face has a little something to do with the fact I'll be 40 one month from yesterday.

Is it just me, or is time flying past?

Before I know it, I'll probably be swallowing my own teeth.

favorite thing friday

This past week while I was driving to Los Angeles for a meeting, I heard on National Public Radio that last year, it was reported children in California missed approximately 874,000 days of school because of dental problems.

That translates to approximately 7% of the student population missing one day of school. For those children who need dental care - but the families cannot afford it - the percentage of days missed from school due to dental problems are even higher. While that was surprising (and saddening) for me to hear, it stunned me that almost two-thirds of children in California have some form of dental disease.

Two-thirds!

I forget where exactly I saw - or heard it - but somewhere along the way, I learned that it is important to take a child once they turn one, for their first visit to a dentist. This seemed awfully young to me but the reasoning is that you want to insure your children's teeth are growing in correctly, and also, you want to get your child accustomed to having someone inspect and/or clean their teeth with routine frequency.

We didn't take our triplets for their first dental visit until they were 18-months old and it was rather traumatizing for them. But since then, our family goes to the dentist once every four months for a thorough cleaning and checkup and everyone - except Henry who screams when the dentist so much as walks in the room - is a pro in the chair.

(If you take one more step, so help me I will throw this "Find It" game at you and scream so loudly your ear drums will rupture and bleed. Do. NOT. Test. Me. I mean every word which I do not say, but you should be able to tell just by looking at me.)

Knock on wood, our children have not had any significant dental problems thus far and I credit their strong teeth to genetics, a healthy diet that is low in sweets (theirs, not mine - silly), but perhaps most importantly, a good dental hygiene program.

In addition to brushing twice a day - preferably after meals - our dentist has stressed that it is extremely important we carefully floss our children's pearly whites, before brushing. I'm pretty sure everyone knows flossing is critical for good dental health, because flossing removes plaque which can turn to tartar which leads to gum disease which is no good at all.

But how does one successfully floss the little bitty baby teeth on a child?

We were recently introduced to "Oral-B flossers" and we love them.

While the box says not intended for children under the age of four, once the dentist told us that we had 'significant plaque buildup' on William's teeth, we've been using them everyday for the past few years - and have been using them daily on Henry since he had more that one tooth.

Not only are the flossers easy to use - they are fun for the kids to look at and they have made a HUGE difference in their overall dental health. And since the initiation of mandatory flossing, the report card that we receive from the dentist has definitely improved. That's good news because it assures Charlie and I that we are doing a swell job of taking care of our children's teeth. But it also means there is a better chance that they will keep their baby teeth a bit longer.

Which is good news for me, because the thought of our babies losing their baby teeth makes me want to sob. I mean, weren't they just embryos ... a few months ago?

Good heavens. What's next?

Driver's Ed?

favorite thing friday

A few days before Charlie and I were married in 1994, my mother underwent a major dental reconstruction. Mom previously had her top teeth extracted and was fit with a temporary bridge while her permanent bridge was made.

My mother's dentist gave her strict instructions to avoid certain foods because her temporary bridge would not be as secure as the permanent bridge, and since mom was slated to read a verse at our wedding in front of 200 guests, she promised that she would be careful.

But on the plane ride from South Carolina to Massachusetts, a mere two days before the wedding, mom bit in to a seemingly harmless-to-fragile-dental-work sandwich and nearly died when she looked down to see that her bridge was still in the sandwich when she took it away from her mouth. Mom threw a napkin up to cover her face and leaning over to my Aunt Grace, who was traveling north with her, muttered "Oh NO!"

When Auntie encouraged mom to drop the napkin, she initially panicked - before falling in to a fit of hysteria. My aunt and my mom laughed and laughed. Because there sat the mother of the bride, almost completely toothless.

I've written before that dental hygiene is very important to me.

I have had our children in to see the dentist every four months since the time they were 18-months old, and Henry had his first checkup the same month he turned one. When my mother was in town recently and she watched me struggling with Henry to brush his four little teeth, she casually mentioned that she didn't own a toothbrush until she was seven-years-old.

So. As I was saying.

Good dental hygiene is important. And my mother knows that although she was born during the Depression and before the current day emphasis that is placed upon taking care of one's teeth, mom always made sure I had my teeth cleaned every six months when I was growing up.

For Christmas in 2000, mom bought me an Oral B electric toothbrush.

Up until that time, I had always used a manual toothbrush, and once I made the switch, I couldn't believe the difference. I went on and on about how awesome my new electric toothbrush was and Charlie had such toothbrush envy, he ditched his Reach and went out and bought an Oral B for himself.

For the past eight years, I have used the exact same toothbrush, changing out the heads once every few months. I had no plans to replace my Oral B toothbrush, but very recently, it seemed that whenever I would brush my tongue (I cannot consider any toothbrushing session complete without a good tongue scrubbing), the toothbrush head would come off and get stuck at the back of my throat.

No kidding.

(Does it amaze you as much as it amazes me, the things about my personal life I divulge on this blog?)

The first time it happened, I thought that maybe I needed a new toothbrush head. But when I replaced it - and the same exact thing happened again - I got a little fearful that I was going to die while brushing my teeth.

Instead of running out and buying a new toothbrush (or using one of the 50 manual toothbrushes I have stockpiled from my [nearly] quarterly dental visits), for the next few months, I exercised extreme caution when brushing my tongue to insure that the toothbrush head didn't disconnect from the body, get lodged in my throat, and kill me.

(Seriously, in my mind's eye I could actually see the obituary about how I choked to death on a toothbrush head and I leave behind four small children and a grief-stricken husband.)

All this to say ... I recently bought a new toothbrush.

I had heard great things about the Sonicare from my dentist, but never felt compelled to fork over the $100 (or $170 depending upon the model) until my recent disconnecting-toothbrush head-escapades. Now I can honestly say that as much as I loved my Oral B, I love the Sonicare that much more. The level of clean that is achieved after just one tooth brushing, is comparable to the level of clean one obtains after having just visited the dentist.

From the Philips website:

• Sonicare achieves its bristle velocity through a combination of high frequency and high amplitude bristle motion.

• This velocity generates dynamic action.

• Dynamic action is gentler on dentin than a manual or an oscillating toothbrush. This action cannot be achieved by oscillating, spinning, rotating, or pulsating brushes.

• The cleaning power of dynamic action, coupled with the specially designed bristle orientation, results in deep penetration of interproximal spaces.

• This process results in a distinctly different brushing experience.

We purchased the Flexcare at Costco for $169.99. It came with two toothbrushes, a recharger and travel recharger (this is convenient for us since Charlie needs HIS OWN charger because he doesn't like sharing his recharger with me since I do not share the same neurosis about cleaning my toothbrush prior to charging. Whatever. He has his hang ups, he says I have mine) a travel pouch and a UV sanitizer.

If it wasn't so late, I would do a little comparison to the Flexcare that is sold at Costco versus Bed, Bath & Beyond. They also show a sale price of $169.99 but I'm not sure if the package sold at Costco is exactly the same, or slightly expanded. If they are the same, purchasing this toothbrush through Bed, Bath & Beyond (with a coupon) could save you 20%.

Our children are still using inexpensive battery-operated electric toothbrushes, but once they are a little older and not as likely to put their toothbrush in to the toilet, I will consider purchasing a Sonicare for them, too. Because dental hygiene is important to me.

(As for my mom: she visited a dentist in Massachusetts who placed her temporary bridge back in, the day before we exchanged nuptials. She had teeth, but her dental work was incredibly fragile and awkward fitting. I love you mom. Thanks for everything you do for me. And thanks for reading at our wedding. I think the lisp was adorable.)