K’s first dentist appointment was this evening!  Based on his usual panic/meltdown at the pediatricians, and his recent (last few months) attachment to my hip any time his surroundings aren’t…well…HOME…I was confident this wouldn’t go well.  I apologized in advance to the receptionist.  She smiled.

We’ve been gearing up for the appointment by talking about teeth.  We practiced opening up and saying “ahh!”.  We counted teeth.  K brushes his own teeth, and we come in for a final touch-up.  All in all – he seemed as ready as he could be.

On the way there I told him we were going to he dentist. I remembered he had no clue what that meant so I started calling it the toothbrush house.  He was already holding his Elmo toothbrush at the time, so that got him started babbling about Elmo.

Upon entering the lobby…he was given a Melissa and Doug puzzle.  He busily removed and replaced the pieces, then went and scooted one piece under the door and said “uh oh, under door!’.  (Sneaky little fella).

When it was our turn, the very sweet and patient assistant came to get us.  K, still toting his toothbrush, followed along timidly, until he saw a tv above the chair.  Then he ran to the room.  He sat in my lap while she tried to examine his teeth, but he was too busy clenching his mouth shut…and watching tv. I tried the games we’ve practiced…”ahh”, counting teeth, showing her how he can brush “back and forth” and in “circles”.  But he ignored us.  And watched tv.  I tickled him, got him laughing.  But the moment her fingers got near his mouth, he was back to clenching.  And watching tv.

We finally settled on leaning him back so that his head is in her lap, and his lower half in my lap.  He thought that was a horrible idea.  But because he opened his mouth to tell us how horrible that idea was, she was able to get in there for a quick peak.  We chose the same method with the dentist came in.  More open-mouthed objections.  More checking.  When they were done, K tearfully begged “watch tv!”.

All in all they were pleased!  She predicts he will have crowding, which doesn’t surprise me.  But no signs of cavities, and they were coming in nicely so far.

So the dentist thinks my kid is addicted to tv.

And that he has healthy looking teeth.

K got a new toothbrush with Winnie the Pooh on it.   As we were talking about the visit and the new toothbrush on the way home,  K added “toothbrush house!”   “Ahhhhh!”.

NOW he does it…sneaky little fella indeed.

Ok, so that title was a spoiler. 

K (and 3 cousins) recently visited with his grandparents over Thanksgiving.  With 4 kids under 5, they had to get creative with sleeping arrangements…and K was the one who ended up in a toddler bed.  I was skeptical.  I thought for sure he would wake up and wander. 

Good news – I was wrong!   He woke up one morning and got out of bed  before the rest of us.  Otherwise, he did surprisingly well. 

We decided to capitalize on the momentum and try converting his bed when we got home. We realized we didn’t have the toddler half rail…but decided to give it a whirl anyway.   Daddy converted the bed, and K got to climb in and give it a whirl.

He liked it!

During a late Walmart run, I bought a bed rail just in case…but by the time I got home, K was already in bed.  And he stayed there all night!  To be determined if it will always go this well…but for night one, we are super proud of our big boy!

If you know me, the real me, you’ve likely heard me be critical, a bit judgemental.  Maybe of someone else.  Maybe of you.  Certainly of me.   In short…I have high, frankly unreasonable expectations.   For everyone.

But I’m no harder on anyone than I am on myself.  Sometimes that makes trying to be a good employee a supportive wife and a great mama a challenge.  And THAT means I spend too much time feeling like I haven’t done enough one place or the other.

Even in petty matters…I get my hopes up.  We tried this weekend to get family photos taken.  Talk about a lesson in expectations.  No matter the planning that went in to outfits, props, possible poses…you can’t force perfect.

I should have known K wasn’t going to listen when he refused to sit at a high chair for breakfast.  Or wear clothes.  What I didn’t see coming was the goose poop he wouldn’t be able to resist stepping in.  The pond he would be obsessed with.  That he would cry when he tried to tell him to do anything other than throw grass in the water.  And that he would spend 98% of his time running away from the camera.  How can we capture the best of K when he is acting at his worst?

On the way home, I was pouting in the car and wiping goose poop from my pant legs.   J piped up with “well we tried”, and urged that perhaps I need to learn to manage my expectations.

And he’s right.  He’s annoying when he’s right.

I’m not sure why I think that a snapshot of “us” should be perfect when our day to day isn’t perfect either.  What’s more important, I need to accept that short of perfect…is perfectly fine too.

So here’s a not so perfect shot of us.  And I’m perfectly fine with that.