Our local school system is on spring break this week, which means Auntie M was on hand to keep track of Michael while Harper and I took care of the dentist appointment. Harper was good as gold, just like last time, until we got to the fluoride part. This would be an instance when her incredible imagination is not such a blessing. We brought the "throw-up bowl" for the car ride, just in case we had a repeat situation on the way home. Once the cleaning was over I asked the hygienist about whether a fluoride treatment could be done once a year, instead of every six months. Rookie mistake!
Once Harper thought the treatment was optional her eyes welled up with tears and she started to say, "I want to go home now Mommy. Can we please go home? I want to be finished." Poor thing.
The hygienist we had this visit was the same as Harper's first visit, when she hadn't had fluoride. She was shocked when she learned they had used the tray to administer fluoride last time. She told me she could brush it on instead, she could control the amount that went in Harper's mouth, and that Harper could use the suction whenever she felt like she needed to swallow.
Harper was still panicking a bit, so I sat down on the chair in front of her and offered to sing her "Little Bunny Foo Foo" (I learned a version at summer camp that totally cracks her up, but I LOATHE singing it over and over and over.) too take her mind off of what was happening. She finally agreed. Other than claiming she needed to swallow about every half a second, Harper got through the treatment just fine and picked a paddle ball toy out of the treasure chest.
So we got home without incident and Harper was showing off her paddle ball to Auntie M when Auntie M broke it. Accidentally of course, it was cheaper than cheap, but she felt awful. And Harper could tell she felt awful. And even after having been through the fluoride trauma and being so excited about her cheapo toy, she looked at Auntie M and said, "That's okay. I have lots of other fun toys to play with." That's what's made me a proud mama this week.
Harper has plenty of moments when I silently pray I'm not raising some sort of psychopath, but every once in a while she really comes through. As she grows I think that's the part that will stick.
Photo of Harper after she got into her top dresser drawer and put on a headband and a too small swimming suit with too small tights on top of it! I guess I need to clean out her drawers again.