Today was my 3 1/2 year old’s first visit to the dentist. I wasn’t sure how she would handle it, but she did surprisingly well. She watched me get my teeth cleaned first and helped vacuum the water out of my mouth. When it was her turn, she happily climbed into my lap, laid back, and opened wide. Soon, the dental hygienist called my husband over and pointed out a dark spot on her back tooth (I obviously couldn’t see it since I was sandwiched between Bella and the chair). Turns out, she has a cavity in her very back tooth. I guess it’s hard to clean, and she has especially deep grooves in those teeth, which makes it even tricker. But, really? A cavity? On a three and a half year old?
Come to find out, my husband has the same problem (deep dental grooves) and had to have some sort of sealant put on his teeth when he was young. (Would have been good to know before I married him. Might have caused me to change my mind.). This, of course, turned into a joking back-and-forth with my husband, where we tried to assign every dental abnormality or potential issue pointed out by the dentist (namely, her thumb-sucking) to either his genetics or mine. Seems like we always try to do that, don’t we?
Lucky for her, she doesn’t know any better. She got to pick out a Sleeping Beauty toothbrush, a whale toothbrush holder, a little coin purse, and a sticker. Little does she know, in a month or so, she’ll be getting a little bit of nitrous oxide, a tooth drilled, and her very first cavity filled…hopefully not of a long line of them.
