As you can probably tell, baby boy J keeps me on my toes. There is always something! T seems to be along for the rollercoaster ride her brother provides.
Anyhoo, Saturday was a very emotional day for many reasons. One big reason was J "chipped" his tooth, (actually he knocked off a crown he got when he was 2 years old, but that is another story) Since we were at a pool party, I wasn't sure how much he was down playing any possible pain so that we wouldn't have to leave. As soon as it happened, I called my hubby, who put in a call to our pediatric dentist (who we LOVE!) The tooth was jagged and discolored, but J seemed okay. I was emotional because I was afraid that he would need emergency dental care and I was supposed to be leaving for work soon. Not happening! I was thinking of the drama involved in finding a subsitute singer to sing at someone's wedding vs. not being with my son during some kind of oral surgery!!!
Thankfully, we were able to wait until today, for what turned out to be an extraction of a baby tooth. J did great! I, however, was a mess. My sweet husband, who is always strong when I am not, made me laugh through my tears, and assured me that I was breathing when I felt I couldn't. The 10 minute procedure felt like an hour and my big boy never shed a tear or even realized when it was over. Whew!!!
Afterwards, J did feel some discomfort pretty quickly on the way home (Tylenol to the rescue!), but he bounced back in an hour and we failed miserably at getting him to take it easy for the remainder of the day. He even ate most of a
hamburger this afternoon (J doesn't eat much-another post)
Unfortunately, I had to work tonight, and one would never know things weren't business as usual with J, so off I went to "pay some bills". I did talk to him and he is doing just fine.
For the record, my kids are very big for their agse. I, along with most people are amazed by this fact. Even the dentist commented on how amazed he was at his size vs. his age. He said J has the mouth/teeth of an 8 year old. I say all this to say, my baby is still my
baby! I mean the 8lb. 1 oz. little bundle place in my arms just over 6 years ago! This morning all I could picture was J, in that dentist's chair. It was all I could do not to scoop him up and bolt out of there, and try to figure out another way to "fix it".
My husband, bless his sweet soul, acts tough, but when he heard one of the other kids in the office make a noise (which turned out to be a playful squeal) he was up and almost running, thinking it was J yelling.:)
I am so proud of J. Watching him conquer his fears and issues is scary for me. I have been through some of it before with T, but believe it or not, she didn't have as much "stuff". Or maybe she was so quiet about it, we just handled it without as much production.:) Either way, I doubt it will ever get easier to get out of the way when it is called for. I sometimes feel like each triumph for them means another little step away from me. Time is flying by!
Motherhood can be so bittersweet sometimes.