Pick your battles

Dr soc has been on this eating healthy salad kick so ultimately I don't have to kill him for dying on me. Seeing as we've been together* for 11 years as of today I need him to stick around as my partner in crime, parenting hijinks coconspirator but mostly someone I can occasionally talk shit about when I'm deflecting from my own shortcomings. 

*as well as put a ring on it and let him get me pregnant twice 

Anyway, back to the salads, he eats a lot and prefers a larger bowl for his rabbit food. The largest bowls that we have are the mixing bowls, but I have a hard line that you do not eat from the mixing bowls. See I almost killed someone for always eating out of the mixing bowls and I could never use them for cooking when I needed* them. To save my future relationships and myself from heartbreak, I drew that line and decreed it a rule. Dr soc is awesome and obeys and I tweeted how glad I am for that because divorce is a lot of paperwork.  

*that same someone never did the dishes either 

I'm explaining the origins of that rule and a coworker who's been married for longer than I've been alive, and they decide to impart the following wisdom about marriage: pick your battles.

My response: I have! This is one. DO. NOT. EAT. FROM. THE. MIXING. BOWLS! 

Love you honey! Thanks for not making die on that* hill!

*I'm sure there will be others. I just don't have to die on that particular one.

Irony 2.0

The irony of  Girl 1 fighting me tooth and nail on her teeth* and nails is not lost on me.

*you may recall the teeth fight of 2020. Currently that war is at a lull but her checkup in December involved crying so her upcoming June appointment I don't know.

Now that she is a mature 5 year old the irony is this: The hill my child will die on is anything health related. 

• She will not take medicine, topical or internal. 
• She will not listen to her body for the bathroom.
• She will not blow her nose despite being unable to breath due to snot blockage or a river flowing from her nose 
• Refuses band aids and screams about any blood getting on anything and everything from refusing to cover it
• When she found out she had to go to the doctor because she mentioned to daddy her ear hurt, she said "I wish I hadn't said anything."*
• *This one actually worries me because I know she had to be hurting long and hard enough for her to even mentioned it. I don't want her to be afraid to say anything, ever. 
• Going to the doctor or dentist with her requires an iron will, Olympic sized bribes that never ever work which result to physically restraining her*
• *because that doesn't traumatize her at all and won't lead directly to the aforementioned fear of her being afraid to tell me anything.*
• *and that leads me to sobbing into my drink because OMG I hate that struggle so much and I do not know what to do so I cope by drinking and sobbing and questioning my entire ability of being a mom.

Uhhh, yeah. The irony here is that my child is willing to literally die on the health hill. Yeah.      

Dentist Drama Season Finale

So. The drama continued and concluded the following way:

- Stayed home from the babysitter all week and fell asleep on the bathroom floor for 3 nights, waiting us me out on the mouthwash. So we I conceded that loss. Then cried over my failure while simultaneously impressed at her ferocity. 

- Called our dentist (the one who discovered the cavities) and asked if they would sedate her. The answer: no, they only sedate adults. 

- Took her to a third (in network pediatric) dentist, who confirmed she had cavities, but, surprise! in obstinate 4 year old fashion wouldn't let the dentist actually do anything in their really* cool office. So we made plans to sedate - because it had to get done. In 3 weeks because that's the fist appointment we could get at the dental surgery center.

*I mean for fuck's sake they had a tv mounted on the ceiling and you could pick what tv show you wanted to watch! What the hell kid? This place is awesome!

- Rearranged my work schedule. Again. 

- Continued no treats (except special occasions like mommy's birthday cake).

- Took her to the pediatrician* to get her cleared to have general anesthesia.

*not sure if I'm slightly ashamed or proud that I impressed the pediatrician with my 4 year old wrangling/hog tying skills...  

- And this morning: we sedated. She managed to spit* out the relaxation syrup (yeah, sedation to sedate her) twice.

*once again unsure if  I should be impressed or ashamed 

But when they wheeled her bed back to anesthesiology and I couldn't go with her...my tiny, beautiful girl, I just...mom worry. But less than an hour later she was done and I could see her. She was cranky when she woke up from the anesthesia, but also, that's just my girl. At least now her cavities are fixed! We came home, watched tv, and got panera lunch. We're done! 

- Right. Not done. Because tonight she didn't want to brush those damn teeth causing all this drama because they felt funny but also refused to take any pain medicine for that. So I noped it and walked away. Because no. Just no. I'm done with this drama. Tonight at least. 

And this concludes our 2020 cavity drama theater.  

Dentist Drama

The excitement of Girl 1's first no crying successful* dentist visit was quickly tempered by the discovery of cavities. So a week later we go back to fill them and...nope. Reverted right back to the shrinking/wailing/terrified kid that we had to be referred to a pediatric** dentist. And when we went to that dentist she was even more terrified and screamed even worse, so the only treatment she received was a heavy fluoride treatment and was told to start using a mouthwash. When we go back to the not in network pediatric dentist in 3 months we have to hope that stopped them from growing, otherwise we have to put her under to treat her. All for teeth that she's going to lose eventually anyway. *cries*    

*Both visits prior she shrank into herself (and she's already pretty small) and wailed so much the dentist couldn't do anything in order not to traumatize her. 

**That's not in network. Of course not.

At least the mouthwash would be an easy enough stopgap measure right? *cackle* Fuck NO. The rigmarole at the dentists pales to the tantrums we've endured the past 3 weeks. My daughter fought me tooth and nail on her teeth...and nails* when she was a toddler and it's so. much. worse now.

*yeah, I know. The irony is not lost on me.

We have tried everything: No treats. No screen time. No puzzle with Grandma. We'll get her a Frozen II bed. No berry picking. Bribes. Go out for ice cream. Promises of Panera. Hugs. Kisses. Soothing tones. Screaming. Offering to do it with her. No Stories. Extra Stories. Walking away. And the one we thought would do it: No going to the babysitter's.  

Sunday night I sorta hog tied her with one arm and threw the mouthwash in her mouth while she thrashes and screamed with my other arm. Which went as well as it sounds. Monday night I told her she couldn't leave the bathroom until she did the mouthwash. She was begging to go to her bed (an entirely different battle for another blog for another day) and held on for an hour and a half before falling asleep on the bathroom floor. I was equal parts highly impressed at her ferocious tenacity and completely mortified she was asleep on the bathroom floor. 

 

So I don't know what to do. I don't know how to motivate her. I don't know her it seems. I never say the right things. I can't calm her down. I want to be a positive parent rather than a punitive one. I want to know what to do to help my girl. And I know this takes work but I wish it wasn't so fucking hard. This gargantuan effort it's taking to connect to my daughter makes me feel that I'm failing her. I'm not the parent I want to be and that hurts. And tonight the saga continues. Stay tuned.