I Am a Shallow, Horrible Woman

This is one of those posts that could possibly get me international attention as the worst mother in the world.  I promised I would say it like it is and be truthful.  This is an anonymous blog, so I should be able to lay it out there, right?  The following could possibly cause my comment box to be filled with nasty, vile declarations of how wretched I am.  I accept that.  Here goes:

I'm crushed by Little One's appearance sans three front teeth.  Darling says he can't tell a difference.  A dear friend who came over yesterday said she couldn't tell.  But I can.  I can tell.  She doesn't look the same to me.  Her upper lip caves in a little, like an old man who needs to put in his dentures.  I keep looking at her, trying to focus above her nose, hoping to see my little girl's face like I know her.  She doesn't look the same to me.  I don't think the lack of teeth makes her cute.  Her face looks like I've done something wrong, like I've failed.  This isn't like a broken limb or a cut that will heal in a few weeks or even a few months.  This is the way it is until her permanent teeth come in several years from now.

I'm afraid that because she doesn't look the same I will treat her differently and it'll affect how she grows and what kind of woman she becomes.  I'm afraid that because she isn't as impossibly cute to me without those top front teeth that I will subliminally treat her as if she's less than.  And she isn't.  She's still herself.  She's still hysterically funny and precious.  She just doesn't look the same.  I'm shocked at how much her appearance bothers me.  I'm shocked by my shallowness.  I've always been the one who doesn't care about clothing labels or hair styles or anything much beyond basic hygiene and comportment.  My reaction has stunned and shamed me.  How shallow and horrible am I?  How terrible am I that her appearance matters so much to me?  Or am I just saying what most mothers would feel and are too ashamed to say?

I keep imagining what the women at the park will say or ask or think.  It's a looped litany in my head: What a horrible mother for not paying close enough attention to her daughter that she got hurt enough that her baby teeth were so damaged three of them had to be removed.  What are they - white trash who can't afford a dentist?  What does she feed her that her teeth rotted out - nothing but sugar?  Do they not know to brush their kids' teeth?  What's the deal - three kids and by the third they don't care enough to keep close watch on them?  They shut down by the third?  Well, that's what happens when you have more kids than you can handle.  That's why you should only have two kids - one for each hand.  What trashy people.  What a bad mother.  And the worst: She'd be cute if only she had her front teeth.

Darling came home early last night.  Yesterday afternoon was rough and my wonderful husband came home early to alleviate some of the pressure.  While the kids were outside playing and out of ear shot, I fell apart in his arms and told him everything I was thinking and how horrible I feel that she doesn't look like herself and how I'm a terrible, shallow mother for being upset about her appearance and how I'm afraid it'll change our relationship.  He hugged me.  He held me.  And then he pointed out that Big Kid has a mouthful of weird-looking teeth because his face hasn't grown enough to accommodate his permanent teeth and we don't even notice anymore.  Big Kid's our son and we love him regardless and soon I'll forget how Little One has changed.  She's still our baby.  He reminded me that the surgeon looked at the x-rays and assured us she didn't damage her permanent teeth, as we'd been warned, and that she'll just have a toothless grin for a few years.  A few years in a long life is nothing.  My man is so smart.  God knew what he was doing when he matched us.

So here I sit, watching her play.  She ate lunch and is now drawing circles.  "Circie" she says.  She's happy.  She's not upset at all that she doesn't have her top front teeth.  It hasn't even phased her, except now she bites into food on the side of her mouth, not the front.  Today she ate more comfortably than she has since the accident.  I know I'm completely transferring my worries onto her.  She's healthy and she's happy.  And... she smells like herself again.  And she feels the same in my arms.  She snuggles into me the same way.

Eventually I'll forgive myself, right?

Clueless about this whole post?  Go here and then here.

~ G

Thank You for the Prayers

Little One's surgery was this morning.  Things went well.  Her appointment was moved up because they had a cancellation, so we got in earlier.  We signed in and moments later we were moved to a surgical room.  They were so kind and gentle with her - and with us.  Everything was done quickly and kindly.  Within a minute of it being over, Little One was meowing again.  (Yes, she likes to pretend she's a cat.)  The whole staff turned out to coo over her as we left.  Well, there's not much cuter than a toddler in her jammies and rainboots, holding her blankies and bear.

We got back home and cuddled on the couch. Darling went on to work.  Little One had some ice cream.  She's napping comfortably now.  How am I?  Well, my mama heart is on the mend.  

Thank you for the prayers.  Today felt covered in prayer.  Thanks be to God.

~ G

Free Association Isn’t Free - Jonah Goldberg - National Review Online

Free Association Isn’t Free - Jonah Goldberg - National Review Online

~ G

More on the Mouth

We saw the oral surgeon yesterday.  He agrees that three of Little One's teeth need to be extracted.  He doesn't want to do general anesthesia unless we're at the hospital.  He thinks numbing her up and then just pulling them in the office will suffice.  Given the risks of general anesthesia on a two year-old, Darling and I completely agree.  So, Tuesday morning we'll give her some Motrin an hour before we go in and then that'll be that.

Yesterday, I had to stay after the appointment and talk to the billing lady about how we're paying.  My eyes got misty thinking about coming in to remove my baby's teeth.  She smiled and said I wouldn't be the first mama who cried.  She said she and all the other women cry when the mamas cry because they are mamas, too.  I'm glad to know I won't be the first to blubber up.  Good grief.  It's only teeth.  But she's my baby.  And she's too little to know what's happening.  And I can't explain it in a way she'll understand.  Somehow that makes it worse.  Or maybe it doesn't.  I don't know.  What I know is that should all go well, the day after the extraction, she'll be able to eat normally again and that's a good thing.  Right now she's very uncomfortable.  Sigh. 

Motherhood is not for wimps.  

~ G

Again

Again my brain is focused on Little One.  We saw the pediatric dentist today who said three of her teeth needed to come out - like yesterday.  Lovely.  We have an appointment to see an oral surgeon on Monday and may have to wait for the extraction surgery until later in the week.  Right now I'm waiting to hear from another office about getting in tomorrow and maybe even doing the extraction tomorrow.  We'll see.


So,  the "Faker Truffles" recipe and the Attachment Parenting post will have to wait.  Again. My brain can't focus on much more than caring for the fam right now.  Certainly that's the right order of priorities. 


And if anyone's out there reading... please pray the extraction's easy and quick and that Little One heals like a champ.  Thank you.


~ G

It's About Scent

I'm sure you're tired of hearing me whine about Little One and her teeth.  I'm sick of myself.  This morning I realized what was - is? - throwing me and messing with my emotions.  I can handle her soon-to-be front-toothless grin.  Seriously, I'm not that shallow.  What's upsetting my senses is that Little One's breath currently lacks that sweet baby's breath scent.  She's two.  She has sweet, fresh breath.  Right now her breath smells like blood and a little like decay.  Upsetting, yes?  Right now my baby doesn't smell like my baby and it's upset my senses, thus throwing my emotions for a loop.


The good news is that just like anything that's finally unveiled and not shrouded in worrisome mystery, it's not bothering me today nearly as much as it was yesterday.  Soon enough those little wounded teeth will fall out, her mouth will heal, and she'll smell like my baby again.  Unless she's been playing outside.  Then she'll smell like a puppy. 


Wondering what on earth I'm talking about?  Go here.


~ G

Jumping Back to the Gospels

The Lenten Commitment is going strong.  What's interesting, though, is leaping from Acts back to the Gospels.  Palm Sunday arrived and I felt the need to read about Palm Sunday.  For the past few days, I've been reading the Gospels and revisiting the details of Palm Sunday and the Last Supper.


Coming to the Gospels after spending time in Acts has shaken me - in a good way.  I was taking Jesus for granted.  I forgot how powerful he was on earth.  I forgot how amazing his teaching was.  Transitioning from reading about how the Holy Spirit worked through the disciples, the struggles of the early church, Paul's travels and then jumping back to the Gospels somehow made the pre-Resurrection Jesus more colorful and ... well, awesome.


I don't usually recommend jumping around in the Bible, as it's very easy to lose context.  As this experience has taught me, though, sometimes comparisons can bring illuminating clarity.  Today I'm floored by what Jesus showed the disciples.  I'm grateful for the teaching that shows it's possible to be revolutionary while following the law.  And I'm humbled by what the next few days of teaching will show us about what Jesus did for us - what he did for me.  And what he did for you.


~ G