I just wanted to post a quick update on Quinn’s teeth. My husband and I had our dental appointments today and brought him along. At the end of my appointment and after seeing us both get our teeth cleaned (in parts, he’s a toddler after all) he got a chance to be looked at too.

What was supposed to be a glance turned into what I’d consider a true “first appointment”. He went for a ride in the chair, had his teeth counted, lip tie looked at (nothing to be concerned about) and then his dentist grandpa brushed his teeth…and he actually tolerated it MUCH better than when I brush them.

His teeth look fine, no plaque or tarter. I guess I was doing a fine job after all!

He’s such a good boy.

You know how they say “practice what you preach”? It’s like one of those life rules you’re supposed to live by. It is one of my biggest pet peeves when people dish out advice that they don’t follow themselves. How can you speak knowledgeably on a subject if you’re not utilizing the information in your own life? Hypocrites. Ugh.

Well, today I realized I am that hypocrite. I once saw an episode of Wife Swap or maybe it was Trading Spouses, I’m not sure, and the mom of the family was brushing her kids’ teeth when they were seemingly old enough to do it themselves. They’d lay down of the floor, and she’d brush and floss them. Why? Because she was extremely frugal and ensuring that they didn’t get cavities meant that they saved money. Since I saw that episode, I have always imagined that I’d be that mother. Not because we need to save money, because of course we do, who doesn’t? But there’s another reason for the mental dental mama.

Since 2004 I have worked in dentistry. First as a dental assistant, then an orthodontic assistant. I used to scold and send kids to the bathroom with a toothbrush when they came in with plaque on their teeth (it’s really difficult and disgusting to try to change wires and cement brackets on a squirmy kid with fuzz on his teeth.) And now, working as a receptionist, I reach out to thousands of patients yearly…relaying advice, giving advice, talking about the essentials of dental health. Heck, even blogging about dental health!

Furthermore, Quinn’s grandpa is a dentist, his uncle-in-law is in dental school, and his aunt is in dental hygiene school. I just kind of assumed with what I know and how my family and I intertwine with the dental field that dental health in my own family would be easy as pie. I know what I’m doing, right? Apparently not. A few days ago I pulled back Quinn’s upper lip and much to my horror his top teeth were coated in plaque. My world came crashing down around me. What have I done? Where did I go astray? We brush his teeth…we use a real toothbrush and toddler toothpaste. He laughs and enjoys it. Why did his teeth appear to be so neglected? I guess I wasn’t being thorough enough. Seven years in the dental field and I can’t even take care of my own kid’s teeth correctly. So that night I vowed to do a better job. No more mister nice mom. Time to get serious, get down to business, brush those teeth well and inspect them afterwards for any flaws.

The first night went okay. He laid down on the floor, like always…I got his toothbrush out, told him we were going to brush his teeth, and starting singing my brushing song “Brush brush brush your teeth, brush ‘em really good!” This time, however, daddy held his arms down so he couldn’t “help” and push me away like he always does. I managed to brush them really well and he laughed harder than ever. Except it was manic laughter. It sounded like he was being tortured by tickles. Laughter on the verge of tears. And then his gums bled. Because they weren’t used to so much stimulation. I cried. I failed. I texted his grandpa. I told him my worries. He told me not to worry. He said I probably worry more than most because of my profession. True. But who wants their kid to walk around with plaque on his teeth and bleeding gums? Not me.

They’ve gotten better. It’s been a week of our new advanced brushing routine. His teeth and gums are looking good, but he is not doing well at all. He now hates having his teeth brushed. The manic laughter starts as soon as I get close to his mouth and quickly turns to cries and tears when I start brushing. What have I done? I turned my poor baby into a dentalphobe before he has even gotten a chance to realize dentists exist! I can’t put this fear in him just by brushing his teeth, can I? Most kids come into the dentist afraid because their parents say stupid things like “You’re going to get a shot! It won’t hurt a lot! It will only sting a little!” or by yelling at them on the way out because they have cavities that…guess what? The parents should have helped prevent by making sure they are taking care of their teeth correctly. (It’s true, ask your dentist until what age you should be helping your children brush their teeth, you will probably be surprised at their answer)

So, hubby and I go in for our 6 month appointments on Monday, and Quinn is coming along. I’m hoping that while we are there, he can go for a ride in the chair and have grandpa take a peek at his teeth. Maybe I can stop this hate and fear of toothbrushes soon. Maybe he just needs to get used to it. I’m not sure. I have always loved going to the dentist, and now it’s part of my career. I hope he feels the same someday too.

The title of this post is an oxymoron, but it just fits my life right now. Technically speaking, I am a stay at home mom. However, a few months ago my boss asked me if I would come help out temporarily to cover a few hours while a co-worker finished up her dental hygiene semester. It was a tough decision, I’ll be honest, because I had just spent the last 11 months as a total stay-at-home mom. But I adore my co-workers, and loved my job, so I said yes.

What also helped was that my son had weaned two weeks earlier. I was 12 weeks pregnant and all the pumping in the world wasn’t increasing my dwindling supply for him, and since I had no interest in working the entire time I was nursing him, it made the decision easier. Don’t get me wrong, I did attempt going back at the end of my maternity leave, with the agreement to try part time and see how it went. I think I lasted two days. I was majorly afraid of sabotaging my supply or our breastfeeding relationship so I was very anxious. Every time I said “I have to go pump now” my co-workers looked at me like I was from another planet. Those pumping sessions, combined with my anxiety and discomfort, yielded a minimum amount of milk. I would be texting my mom while pumping “how many ounces did he eat?” frantically trying to squeeze out an extra ounce…

But I digress. The fact that my son had weaned made the decision much easier on me. He didn’t “need” me anymore. Nourishment could come from a bottle (or a sippy cup, as was our case) and he was starting to get bored of boring old mom. So I felt great sending him to a babysitter 2 days a week for a few hours, where he got to play with two other boys near his age. And I got a break. A chance to do something different…talk to adults, not be constantly needed. Dare I say, relax? Relax at work? Yes. Also, financially speaking we do not depend on my income so my husband and I came to an agreement that what I earned after paying the sitter, I kept. SPENDING MONEY!

It will be ending soon. I am now in my third trimester of pregnancy and gearing up to be at home full time again. Will I go crazy? Or will my renewed nursing relationship keep me sane and busy and “needed”? Time will tell.

One thing is for sure…I’ll miss the extra padding in my wallet!