I Went to the USA for My Summer Vacation and All I Got Were These Lousy Cavities

You know what really stinks?  When you think something is going to be terrible and people tell you that it's *not* going to be terrible but you're still planning on it being terrible mostly because you are looking forward to being pleasantly surprised when it turns out not to be terrible at all, and then it turns out that it was INDEED totally terrible and you were right all along to worry and you wish you could find every single person who said It Will Be Fine! and tell them I Told You So! and then go home and have a pity party complete with paper hats... but you can't.  That stinks.  And that was my day today.

I don't have much time to write (because more terribleness is likely to befall me in approximately 10 hours, more on that later, and I need to go to sleep now so I can dream about how terrible it's going to be), but the long and the short of it is this:

Screamer needed to have some cavities filled, and I let myself be talked into doing the fillings in the dentist's office with only laughing gas to sedate her, and the dentist was running so behind schedule that the procedure ended up taking place right in the middle of Screamer's naptime (which, as you parents out there know, is like handling a grenade with the pin pulled out), and by the time we finally got her into the chair she was already falling apart, and by the time the party got into full swing she was absolutely beside herself, and then the party came to a rather abrupt end when Screamer started to lose her mind and then I started to lose my mind (I don't know if you've ever had the pleasure of watching your sweet, defenseless 2-year-old being HELD DOWN so that a metal brace can be wedged into her mouth to hold it open, but let me tell you, it's about as much fun as it sounds) and I caused a scene because Screamer was causing a scene and we more or less stormed out of there without really knowing if the dentist was done with what she was doing.  You know, because it was the dentist's fault that my children are HUGE WIMPS and that I apparently have the THINNEST SKIN of any mother on planet Earth.  So yeah, she fully deserved the bad press that she got today in her waiting room when I charged past about 5 families and announced, with all the eloquence of a frustrated adolescent and even a waving index finger: "*THIS* is NOT COOL."  Brava, Mommy!  Another command performance!

The good news is that Screamer has already forgotten the whole thing, it seems; when asked at dinner what she did today, she replied, "Went to camp this morning.... Oh, and I went shopping with Mommy."  The bad news is that I am mentally reliving on a loop the image of the metal mouth-holder-opener (because, as you know by know, I just can't torture myself enough).  And then there's also this minor detail: Did I mention that the same dentist I publicly insulted today is going to be performing a similar dental procedure on Sushi-- only this time in a *hospital* setting and with the use of general anesthesia due to the greater extent of repair work needed-- TOMORROW MORNING?  Good times!

[NOTE: If you're wondering what the heck is wrong with my kids-- or, more appropriately, some grossly negligent caregiver, whomever SHE might be-- that they need so much dental work done at 2 and 4 years old... trust me, so am I.  The dentist first looked at both kids' mouths and asked (with a tone that suggested that she already knew the answer) whether we let them drink soda all day.  WHICH WE DO NOT.  In fact, not only has such demon brew never touched their angelic lips, but Sushi, who has significantly more cavities than Screamer, drinks almost exclusively WATER, and these are two kids who think that "dessert" means FRUIT.  I mean, sure, I let them have some sweets, but we are NOT a junk food family.  (IT IS ONLY THE MOTHER WHO EXISTS SOLELY ON JUNK FOOD, though I look forward to some know-it-all writing in the comments section that the repercussions of my own bad habits have been directly transferred to my offspring through DNA and have caused actual physical damage to their persons.  I won't believe you!)  (slash, I will totally believe you, and sink deeper into my shame spiral.)  The competing theories at this point are these: (1) Because tap water in Dubai is not, as far as I know, safe for drinking, we and everyone else we've met consume only bottled water, which has resulted in the kids' teeth being tragically deprived of fluoride; and (2) It was genetically predetermined at the dawn of time that the children's teeth would be SUPERcrowded in their little tiny mouths, and the fact that their mini chompers have come in so tight-tight-tight up against each other means that we never really stood a chance against these insidious between-the-teeth cavities that are now ruining all of our lives.  (or at least, a significant part of our USA visit.)  Whichever theory proves correct, however, my maternal guilt will remain gloriously intact (CAVITIES ARE PREVENTABLE + MOMMY IS THE PRIMARY CAREGIVER = MOMMY IS A FAILURE) and will likely one day lead me to pen a shame-driven parenting book entitled, "YES, You DO Have To Floss Your Infant's Teeth Every Day, Even Though OUR Parents Never Flossed OUR Freaking Infant Teeth and Somehow We Survived."]

Ok, I could go on forever about my maternal shortcomings and my consequent self-loathing, but it's now 9 hours to hospital check-in, so I should try and get some sleep.  Wish us luck...  xo!