I am quite certain that I have already failed my son as a mother... I mean, all I have to do is read another tofu-farting AP book to know that by this point in our mother-son relationship, I have already set him up for a life of hardship and heartache. He will be virtually incapable of warding off sickness, will always have a fear of being left for dead in a dark, quiet room. He will struggle to decipher the difference between a pacifier and a wom*an's ni$pple, causing much ridicule and snickering. The list goes on and on and on... I am surprised he even has the will to get up in the morning.*
But as if that wasn't enough, as if a lifetime of gut-wrenching personal struggle were not enough of a character building experience, I am also going to grant him with a mouth full of rotten teeth.
There are a lot of things that scared the bajeebus out of me when I found out that I was going to be responsible for another human being. Some of those things, mastering the sleep schedule, have proved to be the equivalent of a rather unpleasant, but quick experience like smelling very sour milk... it sucks, but you can't resist going back for another whiff. Others have proved worthy of their fear, rotovirus...
Never, not one single time, did brushing this kid's teeth even enter into my imagination. And now, it is the hands-down worst 10 minutes of every - single - day. I suspect that Bean would prefer to have his temperature taken the "old fashioned way" than to have me clean his pearly whites. Some days, he is just passively insistent, using the full force of his unusually strong tongue (I can only guess this is from intense bottle/binky sucking over the past 14 months) to keep the brush from crossing the threshold. On others, he writhes and screams with arms flailing as if I have laid hands on his body to drive out the demons. The cumulative effect of this sick bathroom dance is that I am 74% certain that each of his eight teeth has been brushed at least once, maybe. And now that he is cutting two molars... the agony!
We have encouraged him to help us, we have tried distraction (the most successful was sitting him in the sink and letting the water run). We have employed a variety of prone positions, including hanging him upside down, and a number of different types of brushing accoutrement. I will even admit to holding him down on one occasion.
He, in turn, has become a Houdini Jr. -- capable of breaking any hold, grasp, or lock. He may very well be the "one" -- sent to revive this world's love for wrestling. (God, let us hope not.) He has lip strength that I find disturbing, and has nearly taken the tip of my finger off no fewer than 17 times.
I have already admitted to being a less-than-stellar dental patient, myself -- my fear of jaw and mouth discomfort, coupled with a dislike for flossing make me a challenge. I have, however, been blessed with good dental genes. Were Bean a clone, I would sit him in front of the TV with a Costco-size bag of Swedish Fish, a can of root beer (as a clone, we would share common interests...), and be done with it. But, N. is not so blessed and given the vast amount of N's genetic material that Bean displays... I would just be asking for several thousand dollars of dental work before I could get him off of our insurance. And given the mind-bending amount of therapy for which I will no doubt be paying... I have to find some savings somewhere.
And so, I brush.
* no offense to those of you who practice and believe in AP. Like I always say, whatever works for you. But, you do have to acknowledge that the books are a bit... well, fanatic.
Yes those AP books ARE a trifle, um, yep "fanatic" is the word. I take the bits I like and trash the rest.
Oh, the brushing of the teeth is one of the biggest power struggles EVER with my boys. Don't know why. We go for weeks with nary a problem and then out of the blue NOBODY wants Mommy near those pearly whites. The struggles are many and varied, and I won't bore you with them on your own blog. Suffice to say, I hear you and you have my deepest sympathy (and empathy!!).
Posted by: buffi | Monday, April 03, 2006 at 01:08 AM
I let my kids brush their own teeth most of the time. I fear the pediatric dentist because of this. I don't really have any better advice (except the toothpaste that tastes like bubblegum, which I would guess you've tried already).
Posted by: Sarah | Monday, April 03, 2006 at 10:22 AM
I let my kids brush their own teeth most of the time. I fear the pediatric dentist because of this. I don't really have any better advice (except the toothpaste that tastes like bubblegum, which I would guess you've tried already).
Posted by: Sarah | Monday, April 03, 2006 at 10:22 AM
Oh, have I been here! And it's hell. We didn't start brushing until she was a year, and by then she was too smart. But here's the upside: now she's 4, she brushes on her own and lets me brush too, and the dentist thinks she's fine. Add to that she was bottle drinker after 8 weeks, was allowed massive amounts of juice from a sippy cup, and STILL takes her binky to bed. (I don't keep a blog b/c after admitting all that I would only ever get hate mail.)
That's why people have more than one child: our second had his teeth brushed from the time his first tooth came in. (But he still drinks juice!)
Posted by: Karen | Monday, April 03, 2006 at 04:56 PM
We have the same problem. When we first gave him the toothbrush many months ago, he liked chewing on it. Then he decided that it was the third most tortuous thing in life (the first being post-meal face-wiping, and the second being diaper changes). Brian has no cavities, I have a mouth-full of filings. I hope he gets Brian's teeth.
Posted by: Heather | Thursday, April 06, 2006 at 09:59 PM
Good God, the brushing of the teeth - TORTURE only begins to describe it.
My 4.5 yo is better about it now, and actually does a half-assed job of it by himself (I always have to complete the job though, just to be SURE). But my 2.5 yo makes this task agony... for both of us.
I have resigned myself to doing a half-assed job of brushing his teeth now, and just calling it good (enough). He's just taken all the fight out of me on this one.
Posted by: Holly | Friday, April 14, 2006 at 02:04 PM