Dental Denial

Alright folks, let’s go ahead and get real here.

There may be people dying of starvation and at the hand of nuclear disasters and the world may be going a little kooky, but what can really compare to the shame of being told your preschoolers have mouths full of rotting teeth?

In the midst of packing and other such joys we took Uno and Dos to the dentist today.  Uno had been before – three times!, but it was Dos’s first visit to the tooth doctor.

I was looking forward to the outing to learn a little more about why Uno’s permanent teeth are growing in in a row behind her baby teeth.  It’s like she’s a shark…

What should we discover but they each have six cavities!  SIX CAVITIES!!!!!!!  I’m sure they both have six so there’s no need for competition.  (Uno has already had two cavities filled, but who’s counting?)

In addition to not being sure what dentist will take our insurance in our new home or if we will be able to get an appointment before our insurance expires, one of Dos’s teeth will need a root canal, we’re looking at a sweet minimum $1,000 price tag on fixing teeth that are going to fall out in a timeline of approximately… oh… tomorrow -to – six years of tomorrows from now.

Please excuse me if I put a damp washcloth on my forehead while I recline on the sofa and recover from the heart palpitations I’m experiencing.

Do you want to know the worst part of this misadventure?  Apparently it’s my fault the little ruffians have teeth made of decay!

It seems cavities are a genetic predisposition and since I have had cavities and my dear, sweet Lizard is cavity-free, it’s all my fault Uno will be sporting “silver caps” on her molars and Dos will have to go under sedation for dental work at the ripe old age of three!

(In the interest of full disclosure I’ve had a lot of cavities in my lifetime.  My parents had to pay for root canals on three of my teeth (one a baby tooth) when I was growing up.  My dentist told me not only do I have the smallest oral cavity of any adult he’s ever seen, I have teeth that are “chalkier” than the average.  Now that’s something to put on a resume or work into a party conversation.)

After pulling myself out of the swoon in the dental office I definitively banned juice, cookies, fruit snacks, chewing gum, and Gatorade from our household.  Fresh fruit may be in danger of censorship as well, we’ll have to see after our next cleaning in six months.

Dos cried when I told her she couldn’t have juice anymore.  Uno cried when I pried the salt water taffy I let her get as a prize for finishing Pre-K yesterday from her small hands.

While engaged in the tug-of-war over the taffy, I may have said something to the effect of: “Your teeth are rotting in your head and they’ll hurt you and fall out if we don’t do something drastic!  Give me the taffy, child!  Give it to me now!!”

I never did get the answer to my shark tooth question, as my ears were buzzing too badly to hear anything after he described the “issues”.  (Another proof it’s genetic?  The cavities are in the exact same teeth.  Their mouths are designed to destroy their teeth!)

Positive side effect?  Maybe we’ll all lose weight and the lard baby in my midsection will disappear!  Now, isn’t that a silver lining?