But damn, the tartar is WAY out of control.
I went to the dentist for my twice-yearly checkup today, complete with cleaning. With the level to which the hygienist had to dig and scrape to remove tartar, I wanted to ask her if she had dropped an earring and was trying to be casual about the search. Good gawd! I know that mouth chemistry is different during pregnancy, but I don't recall the tartar fairy visiting with such a vengeance when I was pregnant with Gabe.
Gabe also had his two-year well-baby visit this morning. All is well. He is completely average on the growth charts, which makes me happy because he always seems so tiny in my eyes. I was always very tall as a child and am now on the high end of average (5’7”) or perhaps that is the low end of above average. But I no longer tower above my peers. As a child, it is difficult to be much bigger or much smaller than other kids your age. As much as I want to promote Gabe’s independence from “the crowd” and give him room to express himself, if he can at least fit in for his size it might reduce the school-day angst. It sounds terrible in my head to be thinking these things (and then typing them), but I guess as a mother, it is in my nature to want to protect my child. To keep him from hearing the taunts that plagued a tall, heavy, red-headed, smart girl throughout childhood.
Yeah, the kid’s a nerd, no doubt about it. And he’s a nice kid. Just this morning when we dropped him off at daycare, he was walking around the room with a toy and another child came up to him, yanked it out of his hands and declared, “Mine!” Gabe was not even fazed and moved on to the next toy. Is he anti-confrontational? Submissive? Giving? How does one react to these situations? Can you really explain to a two-year-old the nuances of standing up for yourself without going over the line and becoming the bully? I guess the best I can do is instill in him the self-confidence needed to get through the schooling years, make the right decisions, and just be himself.