I should have married a dentist.

I mean no disrespect to my wonderful husband Ryan, he is remarkable and I wouldn't trade him for anything. He can do a lot of things, but teeth aren't one of them. This was the week of dental visits. It started with my oral surgery on Tuesday morning. To be quite honest I was terribly nervous. I've never been put under and I've never taken anything stronger than Tylenol. I am not a fan of pain, but I am even less a fan of taking medicine. I do what I need to do, but I suppose I am a bit of a naturalist. Your body does what it needs to do for damage control - so I just wasn't sure what to expect when it came to teeth removal. Let me give you a bit a background. I am tremendously vain about my teeth. I love the fact that they are straight and white and I've had zero orthodontal intervention. I have only one cavity and that was when I was pregnant with Penny, so I chalk it up as a fluke. My dentist for years has gently suggested that I have my wisdom teeth removed. Not because there was a problem, but because there was potential for problems and why wait until then? Well I should say at this point that I am also a don't fix what isn't broken type of gal too. So I waited and waited and then decided this would be the year. I tried to have it done last summer, but we hadn't belonged to our insurance carrier long enough to have surgery, so I had to wait, until now.

I arrived early Tuesday, met the oral surgeon that would be removing all four of my wisdom teeth. He had come highly recommended not only from my dentist, but from our friend Chad who is our children's dentist and our other friend who is an ENT surgeon. I knew this fella would be good - so I wasn't worried. Going under was fairly unremarkable - it stung like the dickens when I first got stuck, but after that, well I don't remember anything. He could have dressed me up like a chicken and paraded me up and down Keystone for all I know, but what I do know is that I am missing four teeth. Fortunately they are the correct teeth - and I am fairly certain I never wore a costume. I know that I went to recovery, I know I came home and I am told that I took medicine and tried to to talk, but since my mouth was completely numb it came out a bit like Dick Clark's New Years Eve cheer the first year after his stroke. (I mean no disrespect - I feel for him, you really think you sound normal, you do) Eventually the numbness wore off of my upper jaw and that my friends is really interested trying to talk with only the upper half of your mouth - slightly more clear, but really not so much. As the day wore on I was back to normal. I've been good since then, tired, really, really tired. I think it has to do with the steady diet of oatmeal and yogurt. I've embarked on bean soup today and some soft bread - but I am paranoid about getting food in my sockets, plus this is a great way to kick start a diet, let me tell you. I think it's also attributed to the fact that I had to pull myself together and take Penny and Jon to the dentist on Wednesday afternoon, but more of that later.

I am looking forward to my Tylenol PM tonight and a good nights sleep to finally shake off this exhaustion that I have been carrying since my dad left on Wednesday when I was put back on active mom duty. I try to keep myself pulled together, but yesterday was an all day pajama day, it just smacked me like a 2 x 4. I was told by a former (just kidding) friend that they hoped I felt better than I looked. I laughed and then took a shower and changed into fresh pajamas, hoping that would help. I asked Ryan and he said, "Babe, when you are tired, really, really tired, you look it. I was nervous to leave you in the morning." Ugh. Not being a fan of the rode hard put away wet look, I am making a conscious effort to maintain my hygiene and appearance. So far so good. I smell good, look as good as I can look and I am wearing "outdoor" clothes. It's a start.

So I have often joked that I would like to get a dentist chair in my house to use as my time out chair. It's weird, my children seem to become paralyzed upon sitting in this type of chair, like it has a sedative effect. I've tested the theory and it isn't the reclined position - they aren't as cooperative at the doctors laying down and it isn't the fact that it moves up and down - we've experienced our fair share of horrible hair cuts. It is the "dentist chair" the one-two punch of recline and up and down. But it's more than that, they crawl in, all of them, at the age of two and sit right down, get their teeth cleaned, rinsed, flossed, polished and fluoride treated. Not a tear, scream, yelp or plea. They just do it. Honest to God when I am feeling down about myself as a mother I wish I could take them to the dentist just to stroke my ego a bit. I'll admit it, I feel good about it, I know I have no control and have done nothing to make them be this way, but I stand there proud with my two year old, as their mouth is wide open taking it like a champ and the nine year old next to us is screaming. Yes, I judge and yes, I am happy it isn't me. Even when Jon has had cavities filled (I think we're on our 5th) he takes it in stride. He hates it, but he loves our dentist and in turn he knows our dentist loves him. He might flinch or drop a tear, but he's never had to be held down or talked off the ledge. The poor fella does everything right, he just gets those damn cavities in between teeth - we're all praying - dentist included- that when his big teeth come in this is just a memory. Fortunately Drew and Penny seem to be a-okay at this point. We shall see. I'm only slightly kidding about getting a dentist chair for my house.

So I sit here, healing, tired and no longer hungry for real food, thankful that it is Friday. I am looking forward to a relaxing weekend - except the part where I sell nachos at the Colts game and can't eat them. I wasn't planning on working the Colts game (Booth 121, Blue Cantina!), but I can't say "No" and well I get paid (in the form of swimming dues) and get to enjoy the excitement of a play off game - I can't complain too much about that. I hope all of you have a wonderful, relaxing and long (for the lucky ones) three day weekend. Take care, thanks and Go Horse!