Tooth Fairy Tales

I took Celia to the dentist for the first time today, and she cried and only got half of her teeth cleaned.  She stayed and watched the hygienist torture her mother for another half hour after that.  Apparently, they have all kinds of new high-tech tools since I last visited a year ago.  One of them shoots water onto your teeth and gums at a speed that I'm quite sure would remove paint from my car.  I hoped that Celia didn't notice me clenching my hands together ever more tightly as the sweet, young hygienist educated my daughter all about oral health.  I totally appreciated the way she took the time to teach her so much and to just entertain her by asking her questions about her brothers, pet, favorite color, and other inane things that five year olds enjoy sharing.  But I kept thinking, "Does this 12 year old know what she's doing?  Is she looking at my cute little girl or at my gums which feel like they've been tazed?  Should I tell her that I have a high tolerance for pain, but she's pushing the limits or should I endure quietly so as not to give my already frightened daughter more fuel for not returning to the dentist than she already has?"  I opted to tough it out, offer it up, and hope that Celia would think that Mr. Thirsty looked super awesome draped over my right cheek slurping up my drool.

I was so pleased yesterday that I had finally gotten Celia feeling comfortable about going to the dentist.  All she had to do was let the nice lady brush her teeth and let the dentist count them.  We'd read the Dora book over and over.  She knew the names of all of the tools.  She was set.  Oh, and the treasure box was a lovely bit of motivation that our lovely dentist's office has built in.  But something happened when she sat down in that moving chair.  She panicked.  Her tiny little body, wrapped in stripy leggings, cute red sunglasses propped up on her nose so the light wouldn't be too bright in her eyes, she just cracked.  We talked her into letting the nice lady brush one tooth, but that toothbrush didn't look anything like her awesome Barbie light-up brush at home.  And the bubble gum toothpaste?  Not a big selling point for a little girl who has never been allowed to chew gum because...um...duh..it's BAD FOR YOUR TEETH!  She was scared to death of the bubble gum toothpaste.  But she overcame her fear for a moment while the hygienist polished her bottom teeth.  Then Mr. Thirsty came out.  Mr. Thirsty...cute name, right?  That's what my dentist called it when I was little.  This sweet hygienist...who is 12, I'm sure of it...called it Mr. Suction.  Really?  REALLY?  Not so friendly.  It wouldn't have mattered.  She was already climbing out of the chair, which was tricky to do, since she was on top of me.  That's right...I was lying there under her for all of this nonsense.  Where were my super cool sunglasses?  That light IS bright!  Anyway, after lots of reassurances and more tears, we abandoned all hope that her top teeth would be polished this trip.  She was way too upset. The dentist was fantastic, just using his eyes to count her teeth.  She was OK with that.  He even managed to put the little mirror into her mouth to see the top ones.  He was so gentle and kind.  He reported that he saw no cavities.  I guess he could tell by just looking. And 99 bucks later, she has a half clean mouth and a new toothbrush.

So, my question is, how do I convince her to go back in six months and not be freaked out?  I mean, she knows what they're going to do.  And holy cow...if she ever has a cavity, I can't tell her that it's not going to be scary or hurt at all.  Getting a filling freaks my freak, too!  There are so many things that she's scared of that are really just silly.  I can get her past being nervous about a scary guy in a movie.  "It's just an actor in make-up.  Just pretend.  No, he's not in the world."  But then she follows up with questions like, "Are there real bad guys in the world?"  And so I have to tell the truth, right?  The truth will set you free?  Honesty is the best policy.  What a tangled web and all that.  But I can give her the truth with a spoonful of mommy love and reassurance, right?  "Yes, there are some people in the world who do bad things, but you are very safe in this house.  You have nothing to worry about here.  Mommy and Daddy will keep you safe."  And she smiles sweetly and relaxes into my arms.

But what about this whole growing up business?  She has to get shots sometimes.  And she'll have to go back to the dentist who now uses a pressure washer on people's gums!  And she'll have to endure mean girls at school one day.  And one day someone she loves will get terribly sick.  I'm so very in love with all three of my babies.  The thought of them being scared or hurt just devastates me.  But that's part of my job now, isn't it?  It's my job not to avoid those times but to coach them through those moments.  Not to excuse them from participating but teaching them to patiently endure for the good outcome on the other side of it. 

"More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope."  (Romans 5:3-4)  I want my children to be people of good character, people with hope.  And I am pretty sure that doesn't happen without overcoming adversity first.  The dentist's chair is just one step in a lifetime of tough obstacles to overcome, both for Celia and her mama.  But with God's help, we'll learn together to brave the scary dental tools...and the mean girls in school...and whatever else life has in store for us.  I'll tell ya, that girl is quite the character already, but I can't wait to see what kind of amazing woman of character she becomes.  Even if she is a woman of character with some pretty scuzzy teeth.