A few weeks ago it was time for Jude’s routine dentist visit where it was determined that he needed to not only have a tooth pulled but also a cavity filled.  Did you know there’s such a thing as having shark teeth? Yup — it’s when your adult teeth grow behind your baby teeth instead of pushing those teeny tiny chompers out the way they’re supposed to. Sounds way more cool than it actually is because – GUESS WHAT! – they have to pull those teeny tiny baby teeth when this happens. ::sobs:: Internet, this is my worst nightmare. I blame, like, 4 years of orthodontic work and approximately 18.3 million bad dreams of having wonky teeth after those 4 years of extensive orthodontic work.

Jude took this in tremendous stride.  I didn’t try to pull the wool over his eyes, but I don’t think he really grasped what was going to happen.  They decided he needed to be sedated to have the tooth pulled and the cavity filled, but they were unsure as to how bad the cavity really was until they were able to get better xrays. Poor baby has my gag reflex and couldn’t ever  get those darn xrays done.


So. The Big Day arrived. We take him to the appointment and like a stoic soldier, he solemnly marches back when it’s his turn. The nurse informs me that the first thing they’ll do is take the xrays once he’s got the sleepy drugs in him.  I’m sitting there, kind of nervous about the whole ordeal. I keep shivering about the idea of having any one of my teeth pulled.

And then the nurse appears. She appears, well, less than thrilled.  “We got the x-rays back,” she hems and haws.

I’m thinking, ok, they found another.

Internet, they found EIGHT.

EIGHT CANDY CRATER CAVITIES IN MY BABY’S MOUTH.  Not only did he get the tooth pulled (the lesser of all evils at this point), but then he had eight cavities filled.

I sat there in shocked silence. What kind of a terrible mother am I? We brush daily! We floss never sometimes! I don’t keep any soda pop in our house, for Pete’s sake!

Afterwards they took us back to the room where precious angel baby Jude was waking up. I felt so terrible for him. The doctor came in with his tiny baby tooth in a baggie, and then launched into his discussion on the terrible cavity situation. I kind of wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. Afterwards, we took him home and snuggled in the big bed all evening long with the puppies.

We are now dental Nazis here at the Shingleton house. If I could show up at school with a toothbrush in the middle of the day, I’d do it. My mother guilt is through the roof. It’s a good thing Halloween is already past us.

If it were up to Jude, I’m fairly certain that he would be just like Buddy the Elf, whose four main food groups are candy, candy canes, candy corn, and syrup. You know that scene in Elf where he’s eating his breakfast coated in maple syrup with a  crumbling of pop tarts and Hershey syrup on top? I feel like this is a prophetic vision of what College Jude will be like. Or, really, Bachelor Jude.  He has never met a candy he didn’t love. (And yes, the irony of the fact that that our family members are OPENING A CANDY STORE is not lost on me)  ::sobs over our dental bill::

Now excuse me while I go brush my teeth in complete and utter paranoia for the billionth time.


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