Did that say "the highs and lows"? Well, it should actually read the lows and lows of the first day with a @!#$ing orthodontic appliance. No sugar coating going on here today, folks.
Apparently, J has a small mouth/palate, and he needs more room for his permanent teeth to come in. One tooth in particular has no space at all to descend into. This, of course, led to an orthodontic referral, which resulted in a recommendation for a palate expander.
I did question starting any intervention at such a young age, but I was assured that this was going to make things easier down the road.
After two previous appointments, J finally got the @!#$ing appliance cemented in yesterday afternoon. Of course, I expected a fairly large, metal contraption to throw my little guy for a bit of a loop. Oh, did it ever!
He held it together when he was there, but as soon as we walked out the door, he said in a defeated tone, "I'm going to be the laughing stock of my class tomorrow." Although my heart was a little sad for him and his garbled speech, this didn't present too huge of a parenting challenge for me. I just used this as an opportunity to talk about how humans are curious and notice change and differences. I told him that people, in general, are not ill-intentioned when they ask about something that is different. They're just curious. No biggie.
I guess I didn't realize how uncomfortable this would be for him, so I had made no preparations prior to the appointment. As a result of my oversight (denial?), we stopped at the grocery store on the way home. Sixty bucks and bags of unhealthy, soft food choices later, we were finally headed home.
All was well until it came time for dinner. Just to see how it felt to chew, J wanted to try some scrambled eggs and finely chopped up breakfast sausage that the rest of us were eating. As you can imagine, that was a disaster that ended in a lot of tears and me having to retrieve the saliva-covered sausage caught up on the device. Then a complete meltdown ensued. My mommy heart was aching for J, and I was regretting not getting another opinion about his orthodontia needs. After hugs and snuggles, he agreed that he'd try some applesauce, ice cream, and Orange Julius.
All was well in the S home again. Then it was time for brushing and flossing. At the office, they stressed the importance of good oral hygiene more than once. I wanted to help him start off on the right foot. I also did not want the @!#$ing appliance to be dislodged either.
J has been using an electric toothbrush lately. He also has a healthy gag reflex. This deadly combo led to the two of us and the entire bathroom covered in toothpaste/saliva splatter. Oh, yeah. There was vomit, too. Thanks, gag reflex. J used his tongue to work a chunk of sausage out of his @!#$ing appliance, and when he saw it after spitting it in the sink, he puked again. This lead to more regurgitated chunks lodged in that stupid thing and a string of f-bombs in my head while I manually retrieved them.
I started laughing because it was either laugh or cry at that point. It wasn't a "this is so hilarious" kind of laugh, but rather more of a "I can't believe we just spent $1650 for this!" forced chuckle. J started crying because he thought I was laughing at him.
It took forever for J to fall asleep on account of this @!#$ing metal gizmo. His tongue's curiosity was too distracting to allow for slumber and his mind was racing a million miles per hour. Finally, FINALLY, the kids fell asleep so we could watch a movie.
We got about a third of the way through before the vomiting began. However, I couldn't blame this puking rally on orthodontia because it was E. Six vomiting episodes and five bed changes later, my despise for this @!#$ing appliance is being overshadowed by my good ol' nemesis, laundry. So glad that tomorrow is a new day!
