My Fingers, They Type

I went to the dentist this morning. I had to get another crown. This makes number three. Three crowns? Someone has bad oral hygiene.

Not really, I brush my teeth every single day. Really well.
But I admit flossing isn’t my favorite. I only force myself to do it 5 days a week ish.
And my mouth is extra small (every dentist I’ve ever had has commented on that) and things are crowded in there (my bottom teeth are very crooked) and well, that’s enough talking about my teeth.

So my mouth is sore still. I had a Wendy’s frosty after my appointment because it’s tradition in my family.

Allan waited with the kids in the waiting room and also took them on a walk all around outside the office.
He said the kids all did really great! Payson has turned into a total sweetie (!!!) and Sierra is always a total sweetie and Ember slept for a good 40 minutes of it (on Allan’s chest in the carrier ♥) and Brooklyn… well, was not the sweetest but let’s not talk about that.

I went to bed at midnight last night. Brooklyn’s gymnastics ended somewhat late and then we drove 40 minutes away to a super Target for groceries and Payson’s birthday gift (a Cars scooter and helmet and knee pads, etc) and then I breastfed Ember in the car and then it was 9freaking30 by the time we got home! Then I made dinner and we ate dinner and it was 10freaking30 when the kids went to bed.
Ouch. Tired, tired kids. (Payson actually had dinner earlier and went to bed at 9:30)

So then I had to get up at 6:45am to get ready for my dentist appointment. Allan doesn’t want to use a vacation day to stay with the kids while I’m being drilled on so he sets up appointments for kill-me 8am. Then he can get to work by 10 and stay late and not use time off.
We need to leave at least 40 minutes before my appointments… basically, I’m tired.

Whew, this is way too much about everything boring. And yet I’m not going to stop…

I’m making corndogs and fries for the girls for lunch. And since my gallbladder removal surgery success I am having a corndog, too! A corndog. In my other life I would eat two. At least. Because I really like corndogs; they’re one of my favorite things.

I just mentioned it above, Brooklyn started her gymnastics class this week. She was so excited. Her best friend isn’t taking gymnastics anymore so she was worried about if she’d like it as much. But she made a new friend and is in love with her already so things worked out great.

Back tracking a little, when we got to the building and got out of the car to walk her in I noticed Brooklyn was barefoot. Walking through the parking lot.
“Brooklyn, where are your shoes?”
“I didn’t wear any shoes.” Said with a like, duh attitude.

Cue me going a little extreme in talking to her about how she HAS to wear shoes and look at her feet and how disgusting they are and how do you think your teacher will feel about your nasty blackened feet on her mats???
Not my favorite parenting moment.

We washed her feet in the bathroom before class 😛

Oh yeah, I wanted to mention. For my own memory- the other day in the movie theater parking lot I went to get Ember out of her carseat. I noticed she’d had a blow out poop. I frantically looked around my car for something for her to wear (after struggling to clean her all up on the front seat of my car) and found only a lone sweater from when we went and played in the snow.
It was 93 degrees. So Ember baby went to the movies in a sweater and no pants. I felt very white trash with a diaper-only baby on my hip.

Today Payson was asking me to read to him just after my dentist appointment. My mouth was hurting so I told him about that and he sat looking at me carefully for a minute and then said, “You need a yellow binky mommy. You can have my yellow binky!”
I could tell it was the first thing that popped into his mind and he said it before he thought it through because when he looked at his yellow binky in his hand and looked back at me and realized I don’t suck on binkies he simply took his yellow binky and rubbed it gently on my face.

I held back a giggle and smiled (crookedly, I’m sure) at him and told him he was the sweetest boy in the world. Which he so has been! How sweet to take his favorite comfort object and share with me ♥
(He is picky about binkies, he cries if he can’t find his yellow binky, even though they’re all the same size, brand, out of the same package)

Two days ago when I was changing his diaper he was telling me how there was a ghost in his room (the three kids have been obsessed with ghosts, thanks Scooby Doo) and I told him there weren’t any real ghosts, they’re just pretend. He playfully said there was a very spooky ghost in his room.
Because he loves it, to play along, I said in a scary (kid scary, not scary scary) voice, “That’s because he’s waiting to eat your bum!” (I was wiping his bum right then)
Payson’s eyes got big with fear and he looked towards his room and starts lifting his butt to escape me and protect it while screaming, “No! Not my bum!! No, ghost!!”
And I couldn’t help but laugh so hard while trying to calm myself down enough to tell him there really wasn’t a ghost.

I wondered if I had scarred him as I told him about how they’re pretend and we just play ghosts. Then I asked him if he wanted to play ghosts since they’re not real . He said yes happily. In a sing songey voice I did a “wooooooh” ghost sound while slowly chasing him.

He’s only ever mentioned ghosts since by asking me to be one and chase him so I think he’s fine.

Last night while driving home from Target, Ember was drifting off to sleep peacefully in the quiet car. It was especially relaxing because it was dark outside.
Out of nowhere Brooklyn jumps forward in her booster seat and screams, “Rahr!” Ember awakes from her peaceful trance and starts crying the most pathetic, sad little cry I’ve ever heard. She was scared to death and within seconds was hysterical.

Sometimes I really don’t like parenting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Brooklyn loves posing for a picture before tumbling.

The middle two kids got a treat while we waited for Brooklyn. (Sierra has Reeses pieces, my favorite; Payson has skittles, allergy safe for him)

Crooked, post-dentist smile. (I got extra shots because that tooth was hurting so much during drilling)

I was setting up my exposure before I asked Allan to take these pictures of me and he saw me fiddling with my camera and asked, “What are you taking a picture of?” I responded, “I was hoping you’d take a picture of me, it’s all set up and ready to go.”
He looked me up and down and asked, “Is it because you got dressed up today?”

I laughed at that because I felt rather unattractive today (self image issues, *sigh*) but said, “No, I just want to show my crooked smile.”
I suppose my usual attire of pajamas and a frizzy ponytail isn’t dressing up?

One thought on “My Fingers, They Type

  • It was a family tradition of ours to get a frosty after a dentist appointment as well. I'm sorry your appointment was so early and I hope that your mouth is feeling better.

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