|This is how poor Noah had to ride home from Creve Coeur with the couch.|
On to reading. I'm reading aloud a great book, and right in the middle of my sentence, Sarah tells me that she has a bump on her gums and it hurts. She has hypochondriac tendencies, so I brushed her off with "You need to brush better and floss more" and was about to resume reading when she said, "Do you want to look at the bump?" I didn't, of course, but I figured a good mother would probably at least look at it and give her a sympathetic pat on the head. So I went over and looked at it. Then I put the book down and went to get a flashlight. Then I called the dentist (whose number I have memorized, for some strange reason). Usually I'm a drink-water-rest-and-keep-an-eye-on-it kind of mom for all medical issues, but this clearly called for a professional. Plus it's Friday, and if we keep an eye on it too long, then we're paying emergency Saturday dentist fees. As I was calling the dentist, I sighed and said, "Why can't my life just be normal?" and Noah said, "Because you chose to homeschool." Does homeschooling somehow cause dental crises?
The dentist wanted to see her in 45 minutes, which gave me time to take a shower and get Noah to help me move the stinky couch out into the sun. Just as I was asking him to help, his neighbor buddy knocked on the door, so I added, "Ben can help too. Then you guys can play while I take Sarah to the dentist." Those good strong boys had the couch moved in no time, and I didn't even have to lift a finger!
On the way to the dentist, Sarah sat in the front seat next to me, because all the seats in the van were gone from moving the couch. She said, "This reminds me of when Dad used to take me to Steak 'n Shake and I'd sit up front with him and drink milkshakes and talk about life. We don't do that anymore, because now I know all about life."
I love our dentist. He's a laid back guy, knows what he's doing, thinks conservatively with treatment, and consults me as a "mom expert". He asked me what I thought it was, and I said an abscess. He said, "I concur. What's your treatment plan, Mom?" I said antibiotics, and he gave me a high five and said he would xray it first, just to be sure.
|Very interesting to see the shell of the baby tooth hovering over the permanent tooth.|
They told me it would be twenty minutes. Why does it take twenty minutes to put the drugs in the bottle? So I went to the blood pressure machine. Mine was high. Probably from dropping keys and clipping nails.
While I was doing that, Sarah pointed accusingly at this bag and yelled, "You are ruining chocolate! It's supposed to have sugar!"
Sarah convinced me to buy her an Icee because "my bump is so hot!" and I'm a pushover. I bought one to take to Noah and one for Ben for helping move that couch. He earned it even more when he had to open the childproof cap on the antibiotics, after I had tried for at least 30 seconds.
So the math books remain closed, the stinky couch sits on the driveway next to the broken down Bissell, and the day is more than half gone. This was not my plan. But I believe things were learned in the classroom of real life.