Friday, October 25, 2013

Garlic- weapon of smelly Destruction

 
 
Taking your health into your own hands is... smelly.
 
War was waged against bacteria with tactics only Napoleon could appreciate and those around me want to surrender.
 
Because of a certain ailment, I was sure I could clear up by starving, choking, dessimating its existence, I needed arsenol that wasn't in the house. (well, the garden had plenty of onions)
 
What was my weapon?
 
GARLIC.
 
WE had a clove.
 
With 2/3 remaining and gone south.
Which is what happens with garlic here. Don't cook enough to use it up before it has sprouted in the vegetable container above the
sink.
 
To start, I didn't think I was really that into it. Or I guess I should say that when I told Padre to pick up a garlic clove on his religious  Saturday trip to
 
Sam's Club.
 
The bag he purchased is the size of potato chips...
 
So I tried to treat them like chips and put them in everything from smoothies to sandwiches.
I was desperate; willing to use it as lip gloss if necessary, anything to get it the heck outta my body.
 
For a few days the enemy seemed as gluttonous as ever.
It has only been of recent that I've seen some anemic enemy faulter.
 
Only those in my house, and at church, and those passing by me on the streets,  showed real signs of  being subject to the garlic. We will just put them in the collateral damage section that comes with the sheer destructive stench of
 
garlic.....
 
It has gotten a bit better.
 
SUCCESS!
 
And, even then, I think it was due to the prescription that aggressively took the "hunger" out of the enemy and given me an eating disorder.
 
(i.e. don't worry, I am not talking of the ones you think. Just the label of hallatosis breath due to eating garlic.)
 
 
 
 
 
 

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

My Cane is a Wonderful Wand




Other than  helping me drag myself around, my cane has many uses.  Like a teacher uses a ruler for a pointer to engage kids' eyes on something like a calendar or geographical locations on a map,  Using the air as a chalk board I can direct Jaden on his

"To Do List."
 
From my lawn chair throne I waved my wand and magically Jaden was picking up pumpkins, he was loading them in the wheelbarrow, cutting tomato vines from their cages and stacking them in the north east corner as if like he was under my spell.

Oh,
  He also pushed the little pumpkins that dotted our garden, to the front yard with my vague orders to

"Decorate the front porch."



 Because he said:

J: "How?"

the need for clarification was made me realize the wand wasn't as powerful as I assumed.

Me: Just however you want.
Twirling my floral  cane in a flourishing sweep across the yard the back yard.

Some days earlier he had heard me say that I'd wanted to take all the dried stalks of Sunflowers, tie them together and put them in the front yard for decoration.
(Eclectic yard art is a prednisone thing)
 
When I walked outside a little later, I was tickled with the cutest thing on my porch:

 
Like little kids  first graders waiting in line at the lunch room, J, put the pum'kins in a line on the porch.
The ensures that padre or any other visitor has a hazardous experience upon entering or exiting.


 
 
Jaden bippity, boppity, booped a store bought pumpkin, because ours, as you can see, are on the smallish side.
(Thank you, Frost.)

 
Can you see the one dead sunflower? J. remembered my crazy idea and placed it there.
So when I stepped outside and caught myself from tripping over them, I was surprised to see the sweet "flower".  
 
 
He knows that I love to do that sort of thing and because I am unable to carry that and walk well, he tried his best to implement what I would've done.
 
He had mentioned wanting to use the ugly, green vines that are starting to rot, as Halloween decoration on the front porch as well. Even I had to keep him from making a Green Lagoon for tacky purposes. 

Wrapping up the garden is always a bit somber to me. Even though I wasn't out in it weeding and tending to it this year, the lack of flowers around it's cement border- it still is hard. Because of the memories of each year in it.

This year will be dubbed the year of the Spider Garden. So there is still weeding to be done and hopefully we will get it tilled in before the ground hardens.

(aww, the only thing that made it; my fake flowers.)
 
During some of this manual labor, under the direction of my wand, Jaden would take his breaks and use them to toss the football in the air and run some moves across the yard.
 
Now THAT had me emotional.

In years past we have been to games around the clock. The Emotion Bowl this year happened and I didn't even know it til J. mentioned it the night of. Well, I saw the windows of businesses on our side of town decorated, but I thought it was still early. The weather threw me off. I was expecting frigid temps to tell me what time it was.

Crazy Idaho, what else can we say?

SO,

 It was our first

'Lackluster Emotion Bowl'.

 Which is really not us, and the many years J. has spent in organized sports, we have been aware of every league schedule, clinic, and practice.

The different activities this summer disrupted our "fan" focus .


Since choosing a different route this summer that led to individual sports, we missed out on a lot of traditions- ones that we have put in place and started some new ones.

Like the leaves outside the house,
Everything fell into place.

Actually one night we had a low temp and, just like that, overnight we woke up to naked trees.
 
His "team" is heading into the championship games this next week.
Readers, you will have to go back to this time last year. Well, any autumn day of previous years to recall or see firsthand the depth of devotion he has for the sport, for his HS and teammates

** this was written awhile ago**

It was our life!

Looking back on it I realized how engrossed I got even with flag football.
I mean, here I am, the mom- going over post game talk with his coaches.
It was so fun to sit next to the other moms in our chairs and watch our sons on the field.
 That is what is hard about the individual sports he took up this year- because it took him to places I couldn't go, I couldn't "watch."

That is why being sick is a real stupid invention.

Thankfully friends caught it on camera and J. gave me the low down right before bed each night.

And thankfully I watched most of his practices from, oh, 2 years old and on.

How exciting is it to be

young?

And able?

I admit I am jealous!
Jealous to be able to go to school elementary school and the routine you get into in a class; where you sit and day dream, who is your neighbor, going to recess and pretending to be detectives, or bounce the red ball on the black pavement. To be able, do homework, work in the yard, play with best friends.

It does get better but you still get older. Dang it.

(one such event took place the other day when I suggested they play prisoners of war,
and are ordered to rake the backyard. When I looked outside I saw mounds made that looked either like trenches or graves dug up to put the dead.

I should have taken a picture. And asked what exactly the rectangular spaces were for.
Maybe they were pretending it was their sleeping bag?

ANYWAY..

Life is full of hard things,, scrambled in with the good. Like glasses ,braces, pulled teeth,
pulled ears. You know the drill.

Maybe even the horror of

 headgear.

Which reminds me the promise I made to you about posting me with mine.


My older brother, The Torment snapped this one. Apparently I had a mullet too. I didn't know that I did at 9. I hope it is just matted down hair that had been layered to look like Farrah Fawcett or something.

Fall is more than deciding about what costumer you will wear and whether or not you will regret it later, it isn't merely getting a garden ready for spring planting or enduring the first round of viruses that leave kids throwing up all over their stuff-

 it seemingly is  a time to

reflect.

 
Whether from the moments spent getting a kid ready for all the games, watching him at practice, freezing at the games. All that fall entails, has all flooded over me!

And P.S. I miss seeing him in his football helmet and pads.

And P.S.S, I am relieved I didn't have to worry about the tension I get, whether they win or lose.
I cheer too much.

Halloween is looming...
 
Which reminds me of the cute little girl on her scooter that rode past J. and I on the sidewalk.
 
She zoomed by, simultaneously said hi and  introduced herself, then told us what she was:

a butterfly.
 
The wind made her wings flap which looked like a lot of fun and magically turned her into a butterfly and made a strong case for her being one.
 
We too were interrogated about what we were going to be.
 
for the first time,  J did not have a concrete made in advance months in advance.  And he didn't really seem to be too concerned.

..he better not be growing up!
*he told me the other day what he decided to be so it looked like the other day he was undecided.
She would flutter and eye my cane- probably because there were flowers and that's where butterflies go... 
So I took the elephant out of the little chat and told her  I was going to be a grandma and that I was practicing with my cane.
 
Five year old, Alexis, thought I really looked the part. (name change)
 
Kids give the best compliments. 
 
 

Friday, October 18, 2013

Guess What Season it Is!



I have two Rim Wreaths hanging on my door.
Really.
 
Yup,
 
We are back to the *BAMM*, dut, dut, dut; *BAMM*
sound
of basketball season.
 

The other day was the first day of practice.

J: "Mom, I have some good news and bad news."

ME: Oh, no. Okay. Give me the bad news.

J: "I have homework."

ME: You told me you didn't have any more then reading! J. if you wanna play, that comes first! Now it is almost bed time and you have homework. Great.

J: "The good news is that it is BASKETBALL homework!" (laugh)

ME: "oh," dismissing the comment, "well, you can do that tomorrow."

J: "I have to do it now." (lays on the floor and starts doing air form shots to show how serious he is to finish his homework.

ME: Not so high! You are gonna break the light fixture and have glass raining down on both of us!

He lowers his shot.
 
Since it is dark outside and the porch lights must be those energy efficient bulbs and the moon is behind some clouds, he

 enters his room and closes the door behind him.

 Above noise heard to ring in the season.

he must feel lonely cause he comes and shoots off the cardboard net, strengthened with tape, that he keeps outside of my door for layups and dunks with his foam ball.

*Note to parents- this purchase was one of the BEST Nerf Purchases of our lives. With duct tape, it can withstand all manner of shooting, is easy on your doors, and provides hours of entertainment.

They try to sell you super duper awesome ones that light up and what not. Don't buy these!

They aren't as flexible. Trust me. If Nerf knew how indestructible and fun these were, they would charge more than the flashy ones. Especially if they knew that kids love them from age 2- until, well HS. And possibly beyond. My boyfriend had one in his college dorm and room at home. So they love it.

Where was I?? Oh, bball season. Which overlaps with Hunting Season. And you may

(I have to hide this shirt from J. It is his Uncle's. In Yellowstone they let ya make your own silk screens. And this one is a popular one to J. I promise he has normal shirts- but like when he was young he had a favorite.)
be wondering where your husband is because you can't find him due to the fact it is hunting season.

Children are a lot like devoted pets, they drag stuff to you or hang about you so that you can appreciate the funness of their "catch", or in this case, shot. Or watch them and applaud on a continual basis.

J: "Did you see that shot!?"

(several have hit the boards by now.And it is dawning on me the ramifications of basketball season. i.e. practices, ball bouncing of the wall, the amnesia slip of the baller's brain to NOT bounce the ball on the hard wood floors before exiting the house.)

ME: Uh...Yes.

J: "No you didn't. You were reading."

(It could be play off season for some of you footballers out there. J's team is in the Championship Game..... hoping the best for those lil guys.)

ME: Okay,  you got me. I did see the end of it out of the corner of my eye! It bounced straight up and then down into the hoop.

J: "Wasn't that awesome?"

ME: Yes it was. As would you being in bed on time.


**** just now...
 
After finishing his basketball homework J. got into Wii Season. And he is on a career hunting trip rather than a 'quick hunt'. For any hunter, there is no such thing (this is year round)

J: "Shh, can you hear that?"

ME: Uh, no. (straining my ears to hear some heavy breathing.) A bear? (I guess).

J: "No, a lion."

ME: ah, yes. The landscape is different than North America. But it could've been your hunting partner's loud breathing.


This is what season I wish we were participating in:

 
HARVEST.
 
However, when I asked him in an excited voice: "Do you want to go clear out more weeds in the garden so Padre can til easier?"
 
He didn't seem as excited as he does when playing basketball.
 

I will leave you with what I found in the Padres photo album. The promised pic of me in headgear.
I didn't realize that I had a mullet back then.... This picture makes it look like that was my hairstyle. I am hoping I went to bed with my Farrah Facette layers; wet. So it is an extreme case of bedhead.
 
I hope.




Too lazy to remove the light orb. I know you will enjoy it anyway.

Sunday, October 13, 2013

My Rhubarb Flopbotted

 
Isn't this a sad looking Rhubarb Plant?
 
The weeds and raspberry plants overtook it this year and it too, flop bottomed out!
J. was mowing and wanted some company. So I stepped into the garden with my camera  to document the "damage" of my absence!
 
This garden won't be in Country Living magazine, I'm pretty sure. Unless it is to write about what not to do. Or they do a segment on gardening while ill.
 
The north end got really neglected:
 
 
Yowzers...
 
There are some beautiful sites around the neighborhood and I wish I had my camera to capture some of the scenes.
 
While slowly walking up the street I caught a site of a brand new looking American Flag, In the crisp autumn air it seemed to make the Red, White, and Blue pop with color.
 
It rippled in the breeze, framed by yellow leaves from their flowing ? tree, and the other neighbor's pine trees.
 
Wow!
 
I had to turn around and go get my camera!
 
Of course this meant pushing myself on my walk, but I had to capture it in the morning sun.
After a little bit of a search I found Padre's point and shoot and hobbled out the door.
 
Baker's have new Halloween decor, adding a Dracula inspired coffin, carried by some skeletons that needed to be snapped:
 
 
 
And then, in bright red my camera read:
 
Warning, Battery Dead.
 
 It shut off and the lens retracted.
 
SPOOKY!!!
 
So I went home and recharged, went back hours later with J. He wanted my company as he worked so he pulled out a rocker so I could watch him mow. 
 
A cute little bird kept landing on the fence here:
 
 
But he was too quick for me to get him in the photo.
 
The garden wasn't a total fail, this year. Some cute pumpkins and squash grew amongst several cucumbers.
 
 
Another short walk and I passed by an array of color.
 
 
This tree actually has really pretty Salmon colored leaves that don't show on my camera because I also am not employed by National Geographic.
 
This is the sort of tree that would be nice to lie beneath on the cool grass and just stare up at its branches.
 
(more cuteness)
 
This little flower at my friend's is breaking through the bench's prison, saying:
 
"Let me outta here! "
 
 
And how could I not show the cute little guy in my yard who braved the harsh elements and no tending this summer? In fact I didn't even plant him.. he came up on his own accord!
 
Bravo, brave Petunia!
 
Remember my beautiful flowers from years ago??
Maybe NEXT year!
 
Until then I need to work on this sock problem we seem to have...
J. will tell me the minute before he leaves:
 
"I can't find any socks!"
 
My attempts to help him stay organized:
 
 
But this is crazy.
 
 
 
What does a mom have to do??
 
(No I won't go this far...)
 
Next time he asks I will hand him a rake and instead of raking up leaves, he can rake up socks lying around and then maybe he won't be frantically searching right before school.
 
 
 
 

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Don't Panic! We have plenty of Jimmers!

So okay, everybody is stressing out and ready to go get paper delivery routes as a second job due to what is happening.
 
Mankind has fallen on hard times many times before.
In fact, some stories were told tonight around the table about such people.
Sacrifices had to be made.
 
The occassion prompted me to give a recollection of a very good ball player who,upon hard circumstances, had to quit and devote his time to studying and a job.
(paraphrasing for Jaden)"
 
However, several years later he (Tommy) happened into a basketball gym and made THREE three pointers in succession from the HALF COURT LINE. - left that out in the original post. Sorry. 
 
J: "You mean he was the first Jimmer Fredette?"
 
(Thomas S. Monson) 
 
Note to self: Write what he just said, in journal and blog.
 
 
And write the Prophet of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to bestow the compliment. Unless one of you readers that know him could do me the favor. 

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

"Brace" Yourself for Orthodontic Work


holy headgear....
some of you may laugh, as did I. But having worn headgear myself, empathy spilled out of my eyes from laugh/crying. I have No idea how they got smiling model, unless she was paid well, been home schooled

On a deserted Island.

Either way, it was before she went out into public.
**this is a post that has been in the chutes that I needed to give the gate.
 Post more pics selfie pics of me and my headgear - thank you Torment for capturing those images- when able** 
Well, in my younger years, I had royally messed up teeth, but from the looks of the model above, they were not that bad.. However,because I had J.,  my genes have been handed down. And mixed with other unfortunate mandible genes.
 
*There is nothing like watching your kid go through the SAME thing you did as a child. Or some other person's kid going through the same thing. *
(And there was nothing like finding a random picture of what orthodontics looked like in 'Silence of the Lambs; style)
 
Scary.
 
The trepidation of  having to go to the Orthodontists is daunting even if the above picture shows how far the profession has come since the late 60's and 70's.

 
 
In grade school the words: Dentist and Orthodontist may as well have been interchangeable word/professions. Both were equally scary and the oral helplessness you have under their hands, laying prostrate on your back with no way of escaping, is life altering.
 
(can you taste, hear, and smell of such work just by me saying the words?
AAAHHHH!
 
Like nails down my keen chalk board senses!!
 
All of those Ortho/Dental visits, from almost three decades ago, have come flooding back to my mind.
 
A plastic reclining chair I would wait in with a blue paper bib clipped around my neck waiting for the Dr. or his assistant to come and drill, poke, prod, manipulate, crunch, apply, in order to
 
move TEETH.
 
(Or move you closer and closer to social suicide....)
 
 
 
After spending some time in "the chair" at the very same Orthodontist (de ja vu-ing for me),
Jaden was worked on, much like Frankenstein, and equipment was wadded up into his mouth today and he was set " free" with only a space maintainer and a wire sticking out of his bracket that has bloodied up his tongue.

Despite a lot of wax.
 
As a mother of a  much needed mandible mavuever; Seeing the X-Rays that decided his fate gave me a jolt. One permament tooth, that has been visibly a problem, was no match for the one beneath the gums.
Like the ice berg beneath the water that the Titanic approached at great speed and subsequently scraped its underbelly along side, there, in J's mouth was a huge disaster in the making. And the majority of it hidden under gums. (like those tricky ice bergs that are small on top and gargantous on the bottom.
 
The timing could not have been better in to save some pain on down the line, his other teeth, or the potential social ramifications. And by that I mean potential teasing.
 
Maybe this isn't a big deal of a post to many non dentally challenged folks.
 
 But having been a kid in grade school with messed up teeth, oh boy. It took being called buck tooth once- in fact I was only called it once, but that did enough damage to make me want to do whatever it took to get that problem put in back in place.
 
So a swift game plan was drawn up in Dr. E's office after he'd looked at my x-rays. And the serious financial talk was in the office as well. I didn't listen too intently but the number figures caught my attention.
 
Like my own mother, I sat and shook my head up and down as J.'s informal discussion went down just last week. As with most stories I have been reading online about those who wore headgear; time was of the essence.
 
In J's case, no jock strap looking head gear like those used in the 70's were required. In fact, one friend of mine had a full head piece she wore to bed and the whole thing seemed down right archaic, and whenever I visited her house, and we hung out in her room it seems I either saw her blue contraption or looked at her comfy quilted bed and imagined her strapped into the device as if it were a bit like a death row or mental institute inmate strapped to a table; one strap over the forehead to keep you in "position."
 
J's future experience,
one in which involves pulling a couple of his baby teeth to get the ice berg tooth in his mouth to drop down and not crash into the roots of his other teeth, does not involve any overzealous crazy looking outward metal.
 
Thank goodness
I don't recall being especially teased at school, at home with The Torment- was another story.
However being trapped into a device that seemed like bat wings coming out of my face was not particularly something I looked forward to, despite the absence of teasing.
 
 Walking alone down the hallway at T.V. elementary made the me feel like I had bull dog chops Instead of hanging down, they were as straight as the wire hangers in my closet and looked like it too.
 
If anything, back in those day of the pre youtube, google, hand accessible information, absence of HBO and Disney channels in most homes and pure naivety, most of the kids looked at my oral assembly in curious fashion and we all seemed, for the most part, stuck in the same pre-pubescent boat.
*except for my glasses*
 
With J's fresh mouth X-Ray atop his chest, Dr. E. went through the projected next five years worth of work, in two minutes.
 J. thought all of it was going to happen that day. So you can imagine the drama when
 
Dr. E said: "These two baby teeth will have to be pulled," marking each one with an X with his pen,  "as you can see this permanent one may drop down or we will need to  surgically go up and lasso it with a rope and anchor it with a spring." (Me paraphrasing and using my own words )
 
 "then of course eventually these wisdom teeth," pointing to all four with his pen and pointing out how one was laying on its side ready to grow straight into his tongue,
" will have to be pulled to allow room."
 
The mirror in J's hand started to faulter, and his back started to arch outta the chair a couple of feet.
 
Meanwhile I am
nodding my head while leaning forward to see inside J's gaping mouth concurring whole-heartedly with the game plan.
 
 
 
J: "I thought I was just getting braces!" he mumbled through the hands and my face in his mouth.
 
ME chuckling a bit and calmly laying him back down:
 
"No, of course not today, son! Over the course of several visits with different physicians!"
 
 
It has taken me a couple of days, and a website dedicated to stories on folks that had to wear headgear remember my orthodontic years and to fully empathize again with the feeling of dread of having teeth extracted before their time. But only two seconds to understand after checking out some photos online of folks with headgear!
 
( Even now, I can feel the pull on my teeth and jaw as the rubberbands held fast whenever I turned my neck or strained to see something, a sick twisted joke putting a small, metal piece of archery sideways on a poor kids' mouth.And I am recalling some of the 'comments' from my older brother,
The Torment.)
 
Losing a tooth is hard enough on its own. Someone taking a pair of pliers and yanking a sound, well rooted tooth takes away The Tooth Fairy's magic by her pre-mature visit.
 
And since she's been sick since the last tooth, J. doesn't have much fairy dust by way of a few quarters in the pocket of his small pillow falling around him.
 
(as a side note, isn't it funny that we have that little tradition; putting a pillow under a pillow making it difficult for a Fairy to get a prize in there? )
 
MY own first few visits to Dr. E were very much wrapped with worry. I was always asking myself if he was gonna pull that tooth pulling card on me or if I'd just go along with the usual pain inflicting process of putting metal in my mouth.
 
The moment J. was uncomfortable with the gray "spacers" placed between the molars so tight next to eachother you can hardly get the super expensive floss between, I knew we were in for it.
Those "spacers" are to make room for little brackets on your tough teeth to hold back the dam of cascading crooked teeth from falling into place.
 
Like having a piece of steack in between your teeth that you desparately would like to floss, they stay there until the next visit. Or until it pops out and a re-turn trip to the Ortho is required.
Which happened within ten minutes of J. getting back to school after the first visit.
 
We jiggity-jigged back to Dr. E and had him place it and J. walked around for two days like he had fine china in his mouth that he was trying to keep from breaking.
 
So back to when I finally got back in touch we my metal mouth moments in grade school so I could empathize with the sad face that greeted me tonight. Chapped and sore lips from having to hold your mouth open while impressions of your teeth are down, air is blown onto teeth to make cement dry, and Stainless Steel- "Surgical Stainless Steel" is placed in your mouth.
 
The difference between J. and I- I sat there and went along with the program and J. asks A LOT of questions. Like what the cement is made out of- Phosphouros Something or the Other, and whether it is toxic and if he should eat between now and when he gets his actual braces, which is in two years.

All very important questions.
 
So tonight I reminisced about wearing headgear, tiny rubberbands that connected the upper jaws teeth to lower teeth and had to be changed out daily. The brackets that have turrets jutting out sideways in your mouth, scraping your cheeks raw. The feeling of the bracket being put around your tooth by having to bite down on a tool that drives that little metal band straight into your gums. Ouch.
 
It hurts.
 
It was a pain that previous pain has buried in the past. A pain that future pain would be built and compared upon to help answer the question asked by medical personal: "On a scale from 1-10 where is your pain?"
 
Even with the Ortho showing J. the lack of roots on the baby teeth to be pulled, he is dreading the moment. Yes, it was all fun and games when they offered him all sorts of flavors to make the impression of his teeth taste good for that minute where you can't breathe when they stuff the marshmellow huge-ness into your mouth because you happen to have stuffed up nostrils.
 
And then Dr. E did his Dark Side, Star Wars magic on my young Jedi. Which we had to layer with a bunch of wax so he could endure the poking of sharp objects in his mouth for the duration of the whole day.
 
At my expense we were able to put the pain and future procedures into perspective while giggling uncontrolably,  when I divulged
 
The Oral Prison
 
 
 
my mouth was in for several years- r ubber bands, spacers, retainers, braces, capped off with a contraption on the OUTSIDE of my face called headgear all made it clear that escaping from Alcatraz would have been easier than anything getting in or out of my mouth.
 
 
 
J:" How did you sleep?"
 
I had to stop and think about it. Then I recalled how miserable it was to find a good position to sleep unless I wanted the wire to bend and leave a crease on my cheek.
 
ME: "Like this." and I laid on my back flat and looked up at the same ceiling I looked up at when I wore the thing.
 
I even shared how one day at recess, someone kicked a big, red dodge ball and it wacked me in the face, bending my headgear and pushing my glasses further into my face. Iit was an event straight out of a Judy Blume book about the travails of Junie B. Jones. 
 
(which required a trip to the Orthodontist to straighten it.)
 
For good measure, I hollered out something to the person that did it, or to my friend that the
 "bent wire"
 
was TWO THOUSAND dollars!
 
Friend poo, poo-ing my anxiety over the 'broken' gear: "Nu-uh."
 
I'd heard my parents talk about the expense of the whole thing, not covered by insurance!
 
ME: "ya-huh!"
 
 
(can you imagine that kind of monetary pressure on a kid? Especially back when a lost tooth only garnered a quarter where as inflation has now made it go up??)
 
Ironcially, J. had a monetary scare as well.
 
J. thought the four stainless, surgical steel brackets in his mouth were 20,000 dollars due to a conversation Dr. E. had with his assistant about ordering a bunch of supplies while working in his mouth.
 
no wonder he panicked when the gray rubber spacer popped out of his too tight teeth at school and the receptionist made a call to me telling me about his concern and that the gray, rubber spacer was in a plastic baggie!
 
We discussed the actual amount of money, which gave him a feeling of relief.
(to comprehend how much money that is, he thinks in terms of how many lawns he'd have to mow.)
 As did my assurance that I had prepared for such a "financial emergency".
 
I explained the part where insurance would come into play and that was a relief. For me.
 
 And then we talked about how this would affect everything going forward- how he ate, what he could eat what he wouldn't be able to eat for awhile, and that he probably would not be eating any steak with those tender teeth any time soon.
Although he'd feel like he had and needed to floss it out.
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(just an fyi- we are only a day into this and it's affected how he has breathed and we have gone through more wax placements than the norm. due to that dang long wire. Monday can't come soon enough.
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Because of my similar experience, I gave him some flossing pointers, talked about how healthy he would be by staying away from lots of sugars and sweets or from crunching on ice which ruins your teeth anyway.

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