I Admit, I Was in Tears.

Wednesday afternoon, I picked Butter up from his grandparents’ house and headed to the pediatric dentist’s office with him.

He was prepared. He made a box for his tooth to go in. [He subsequently decided not to put the tooth in the box because, “The Tooth Fairy doesn’t give you money for broken teeth, Mommy.” Huh. I thought the Tooth Fairy didn’t care.] He had a sticker on his chest telling all about his first tooth and how he lost it. It said he was sleeping.

Oh, he wasn’t sleeping.

YESTERDAY, M finally told me he maybe, possibly should have mentioned to Dr. Katie that he felt pain despite being numbed when his wisdom teeth were pulled. I swear I’m not accusing you of anything, M. But honey, that is information you should have shared with me and Dr. Katie. Just saying.

Butter got to wear a cool “elephant nose,” which was how they delivered bubble gum smelling air to him to make his fingers and toes feel all tingly. Then they put zebra sunglasses on him so the glare from the big light wouldn’t interrupt his view of the TV showing Sprout. In the middle of waiting for the Novocaine to kick in, he decided he had to potty. For the first time in a long time, he held himself and said, “I have to go potty, now!” So M took him potty and said it was a lot. When they left the room, I took a deep breath and said a few prayers for my kid.

Dr. Katie was wonderful. She talked us and Butter through the entire process. She’s fantastic with kids. She didn’t even mind that Butter got annoyed with her for putting her head in the way of Noodle & Doodle, which is an A+ in my book. She told him she was going to wiggle his tooth out because it was in two pieces. Awesome.

When she started to pull the tooth out? Butter screamed. Bloody murder. He did really well with keeping his hands under his bottom like they asked him to, but he screamed. And cried. And screamed some more. M was the one comforting/helping to hold him down, so I was standing in the corner of the room with tears in my eyes [thankful Butter couldn’t see me] and my hands clasped so tightly together my knuckles turned white.

I hate dental work. But I would have given anything in that moment to be in my baby’s place. When it was all said and done and he was out of the chair, I hugged him tighter than I have in a long time and told him how proud I was of him for being so good even though it hurt. Then I told him he could have ice cream for dinner, and I swear the kid did a 180. We left Dr. Katie’s office with three stickers, and headed to the market to pick out his dinner. He left with four more stickers and a smile on his face. I gave him some Tylenol and Motrin that night and yesterday [only because he asked for it when he got up] and he really seems to be doing fine.

He has not, however, fallen for my, “The Tooth Fairy doesn’t mind if your tooth is broken. She still wants it!” So he won’t put his tooth in the box he and his GrandMa made for it. What the heck am I supposed to do with a four year old’s tooth!?