Wondering What Happened in Wonderland

   I think most parents would agree that having a certain level of expectation out of your children is a healthy thing.  I mean, there must be some truth to the fact that kids will work harder, be more motivated, and probably achieve more out of life if their parents actually held them to a higher standard, right?  In my own parenting style, I always sought to set high expectations for my children thinking that otherwise, they may never amount to anything higher by themselves. I truly believed this. 

   That is…until today.

   Today, I learned that while there may be some truth to my previous theory, kids can completely and independently set the new standard by themselves.  Today I learned that children, no matter how young, are capable of mustering up more courage than you ever knew they possessed and can completely surpass any traces of a parent’s doubt.  Today I learned that having no expectations whatsoever can be the best thing in the world when your kid just blows you away by achieving what you never imagined would actually happen.

   For us today, the “unimaginable” revolved around a day trip to Dutch Wonderland, an amusement park for young tots and children located in Lancaster, PA.  You see, after the last time we visited the place in the summer of 2010, I spent about two weeks post-trip getting over the fact that the price we paid for entrance would have better been spent towards new curtains for our family room.  Megan was not even walking yet so her entertainment was limited to a train ride, and Kaylee, at 3 years old, didn’t enjoy much else either.  She was that kid who was heard screaming on most all the rides - and embarrassingly - even the ones that barely lifted off the ground.  From that point on, I chose to not have any expectations of my oldest daughter ever wanting to go on a roller coaster in her lifetime and mentally began to plan my 10-year anniversary trip to Disney with a pitstop at Grandma's now in the picture to take the kids for a week.  (Can you imagine paying for that ticket for someone who doesn’t go on any rides??)

   I also walked into this trip with very little belief in my daughter’s claim that she would specifically be on the lookout to ride the roller coaster.  After all, my kid is often all talk, and I learned early on that often, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.  This is the same kid who claimed she would beat out everyone at her first 200-meter dash (she was probably in the last 10% of the crowd), that she would win the swim leg of her first triathlon (dead last), and that she is the best singer she knows (think tone-deaf).  But, no need to burst her confidence, so when she made her big claim that she would partake in the bigger rides, I nodded my head and said, “Ok!”

   After the train-ride and the merry-go-round, we came across this Superman ride where you lay prone and hang onto these handles while the ride lifts you high up in the air and spins you around, all the while changing elevations and tilting from side to side.  I asked Kaylee if she would ride with me and I wasn’t at all surprised when she said she didn’t want to, but I asked Andy if I could go anyway without her, using the pretense that it would be good for her to watch her Mommy go on a scary ride. 

   I was standing in line with a bunch of 8 and 9 year olds when I looked over at Kaylee and waved.  Then, I saw her start running at me yelling, “Mommy! Mommy!!  I’m gonna do it!!!”  I looked over at Andy, who just shrugged and kind of gave me a look that said, “She said she wanted to, so good luck with that.”  I asked Kaylee if she was sure and all she said was, “yup”.

   As I got her laying on the ride and saw how short her arms were to hang onto the bars, worry immediately swept over me.  All the Mom-worries, that is.   Oh my gosh, what if she cries the whole time, will they stop the ride?  What if this scars her forever that she just wants to go home and never tries to go on one of these again?  What if she throws up? 

   I held her jacket as we were raised up higher, and the smile just wiped right off her face.  Uh oh, I thought, and prepared myself for the shriek and cry…but to my surprise, nothing.  I looked over at her and she was just staring ahead, and I tried to get her to look at me in hopes that it would alleviate her fear.  She continued staring ahead and I just kept on waiting for her to burst out screaming.  I actually thought it was a thrilling ride even for adults, and as soon as we started tilting I started talking to her in hopes to just distract her and keep her from crying.  “Hey, this is fun, right?” Nothing.  “This is great! Whoooaa!”  Nothing.  “You should look at me if you’re scared.”  Nothing.

   A few seconds went by, and then I said, “I feel like Superman!”  And her reply surprised me more than I’d ever been with her in all her life…“I wish I brought my cape, Momma!!”

   I know it is only a ride at an amusement park, but that was a glorious moment.  Something must have clicked in her mind as she saw me waiting in line…something that overcame her first instinct of fear and of not wanting to be uncomfortable.  Something that just said, “C’mon, you.  Look at all these other people.  You can do that, too!”  She must’ve just realized she was bigger and braver than she’d ever thought she was before.

   The rest of the night was perfect.  Even Megan, at just 2 years old, went on some serious rides with us and she, too, far exceeded any expectation we had of her.  Each time she looked like she may burst out in tears, but she ended them all with, “I like that.  That fun.”  I partially didn’t expect much of her because of the fact that she did share DNA with her scaredy-cat sister, but also because most toddlers wouldn’t do very well on fast, spinning, and up and down rides by themselves.  What a trooper.

   Despite the chilly November night, the girls just went from one ride to the next, Kaylee full of excitement and trying virtually everything that was open to ride.  Even the ones like the Viking Ship that she initially hesitated for, she somehow dug deep and later changed her mind to at least give it a try.  When all was said and done, there was only one ride she and Megan didn’t like – the Spinning Turtles – and I agree – I about lost my dinner on that one.

   Most family trips of ours always has a rough patch in it.  Either a disaster in the beginning that ends up okay in the end, or a few tantrums along the way.  When all is going well, someone usually pees their pants or vomits or spills something really sticky all over herself (and me).  But tonight was different.  The girls loved the rides, there was zero attitudes thrown, and most of all, we all had a fantastic time.  The transition from car to bed even went smoothly with getting them to the potty and changed into PJ’s with no arguments.

   So you may be asking, is it possible that I, the queen of accidents, actually got through a big event like this without messing anything up?  Of course not, there’s always something.  Just as I was *almost excited about having a mishap-free event, I just realized...

I forgot to make them brush their teeth. 

Wow.  For any mom, that's just not a good thing.  For a dentist mom, definitely not a good thing.  Good thing I'm still just a student.  Not proud of myself for that one...but at least I'm just super proud of them.

Introduction

   A few months ago, my 4-year old daughter, Kaylee reportedly had a very interesting interaction with the dentist who came to visit her school.  During the annual oral health screening, she had apparently asked the dentist to take a look at her “gingiva” because she “bited it really really hard and it still hurted.”  When the dentist pulled her bottom lips forward, Kaylee decisively said, “No, silly, not my incisors!  It’s back there by my molars.”

   When Kaylee’s Pre-K teacher first told me that story, my initial reaction was that of the uncomfortable, awkward laugh, trying to brush off the fact that no, my kid is not a dork and no, I don’t spend my evenings educating my children on dental anatomy.  I think I said something like, “yeah…I guess it comes with having a Mommy who’s in dental school” but even I didn’t really buy that.  I mean, I had tried so hard to separate my day job from my home life, and intended to never let my kids feel the repercussions of my day to day life as a dental student.  I wanted a clear separation from my school and my family life so as to not burden them with all the strenuous demands that came with both.

   Obviously, I wasn’t all that successful as I soon recalled telling Kaylee to replace the word “gums” with “gingiva” so she wouldn’t confuse her little sister to make her think she actually had chewing gum in her mouth (something my 2 year old was very sensitive to since she isn’t allowed to chew gum just yet).  And I may have asked Kaylee at one point to help me sort through my school “teeth” to help me identify which ones I was missing….and I may or may not have treated her with a Gobstopper for every #3 and #14 she could find one morning when I was rushed to get to school in time for a fixed prosthodontics competency exam.  As for where she learned about incisors..the heck if I knew.  Probably from the “Teeth” episode on Yo Gabba Gabba where she learned her front teeth would one day fall out.

   Point being, I realized that day that no matter how hard I try, my life as a dental student, mom, wife, and whatever else I am will never be separated.  I guess I realized that Grace as a Mom is influenced by Grace as a student which is influenced by Grace as a wife which is influenced by Grace as, you know, just Grace.  I found this realization actually kind of sad, because I truly believed that I was going to be the best dental student regardless of my responsibilities at home, and that I was going to be the best Mom no matter what else I had going on…and it didn’t take very long for me to see that I was wrong.  In fact, I was really, REALLY wrong.  For a while I wondered if combining all these facets of my life made one (or all for that matter) take a huge hit because the balancing act was miserably failing.  Things that were not funny to begin with when I was just a Mom amounted to so much worse when combined with other things that were not funny when I was just being a dental student.  It was bad enough when my kid broke out in a rash and needed to be picked up from school, but it was way worse when that happened twice right before an exam.  It was hard enough when all my fake teeth came loose in my bag and I had to figure out how to sort them on my own, but it was really REALLY not funny when my kid took them all and buried them into a potted plant to “watch the seeds grow”.  There was a stretch of a few months this past year that seemed like it was one thing on top of another, and I almost lost the humor of it all.  But I was always saved by just remembering how characteristically worse off I’d been in the past, and it somehow made things much more bearable.

    One thing about me is that I am very well exemplified by all the “oopsies” of my life.  In fact, accidents define me.  Last year, I was that student who dropped her typodont right before handing in the final product during a waxing practical, the one who accidentally stabbed herself with a scalpel that was just used to cut open a dead body during gross anatomy lab, the one who’s computer shut off right before hitting the “submit” button for an exam because she left the power cord at home.  I’m often that Mom whose 2 year old always comes home wearing ghetto loaner clothes because she always forgets to restock her child's cubby with spare undies and pants, that Mom who signs up to bring stuff for a school function and then forgets, that Mom who thought “Purple Day” was “Crazy Hair Day” and subsequently sends her daughters into school with gel-plastered shark-fin hairdo’s that are just really not cool no matter how you try to look at it.  I’ve had 2 reconstructive surgeries, more broken bones, sprained joints, and black eyes than I care to count, and I drop things or fall down at least twice daily.  I’ve tried to be better with my lack of coordination and apparent attention to detail but I think I have to just come to grips with the fact that I will be saying “Whoopsies” everyday until the day I die.

   So, here I am in the last year of my 20’s, and finally able to embrace all the aspects of my life that define me instead of trying to change my ways or deny any part of who I am.  I’m just a dental student, and just a Mom, and I know I’ll continue to have mishaps along the way.  Maybe now I’ll settle on just accepting that, but hopefully in years to come when I look back at these ridiculous times, it might one day be just a thing of the past.  And maybe, just maybe, one day I’ll actually find it funny.