Is tomorrow over yet? Because I'm so ready for it to be over. Tomorrow we head into the city, where Bear will have surgery to have a bunch of teeth pulled. Why is a 6-year-old boy having teeth pulled, you ask? Because his mommy and daddy are negligent and his teeth are rotting out of his mouth. Or at least that's how it looks.
Here's the situation in a nutshell, and I say a nutshell because I want to go to bed soon, so you're getting the short version. Bedtime used to be hell with Bear. It would take hours to get him to bed, and would sometimes end up in a total meltdown where we had to restrain him. A sure-fire way to incite a violent meltdown was to try to get him to brush his teeth. I know most kids don't like to brush their teeth, but most don't fly into a rage. Holding him down and brushing them for him was our only choice, but someone would have ended up injured, so that wasn't exactly an option. So instead, TheODDDad and I opted to not force the evening teeth-brushing ritual because Bear going to bed and falling asleep before 10:00 p.m. was our priority. He brushed his teeth in the morning, we reasoned, and lots of kids only brush their teeth once a day. Every now and then we'd try again, only to be met with extreme resistance. I guess we figured it was a phase he'd grow out of.
One of the threats we used to use on Bear was that the dentist would have to pull his teeth out if he got big holes in them, and that's exactly what's going to happen tomorrow. One tooth is so bad that it has abscessed, which is why we find ourselves heading into the city tomorrow. The surgery was originally set for December, but an abscess gets you booted up the line.
For the record, when I say surgery, I mean surgery. With Bear's issues and the amount of work that needs to be done, the only option is to put him out, so he'll be having a general anaesthetic. So far all Bear knows is that we're going to a different dentist tomorrow and that he's not allowed to eat any breakfast. TheODDDad and I figured any further details would just freak him out, so we'll let the doctors explain everything to him. I've stocked up on bribery -- a new Transformer, a new Sponge Bob book (you know I'm feeling guilty when I lower myself to the drivel that is Sponge Bob), and a new movie. I have those hidden in my backpack to use in case of emergency or as a reward. It's about a 90 minute drive each way, so he might need a little something special for the way home.
I, of course, have visions of him freaking out. I have visions of us having to carry him in, kicking and screaming, scratching and biting. I have visions of us having to hold him down while they sedate him. I have visions of tomorrow being one of the worst days of my life.
Wish us luck.