Attack of the Hygienist

"Oh, sure," the receptionist told me, when I called my dentist's office and said I was bringing my 15-month-old son to my appointment and I didn't have a babysitter to go with me. "We're used to it. We often watch kids here at the front desk."

"But remember--he's a real toddler," I said incredulously.

"No problem. Not to worry," she insisted.

At my dentist's office there are almost always two women at the front desk, not just one. And I've known them for several years now; they're both great. I felt no qualms about leaving my son with them; I just felt bad for them that they would have to deal with the little guy roaming around, playing with their computers (or trying to), opening all their drawers. But she sounded so reassuring that I thanked her, said okay, I'll come with my son, see you next week.

As it turned out--the receptionist who told me "no problem" was out today, the day of our appointment. She had to have surgery on her shoulder, I was told. So there was only one woman at the front desk. Which meant that my son was stuck with his mom in the examining room.

The hygienist was more than nice--setting up a blanket on the floor and bringing in a box of small blocks for my son to play with. I'd come armed with about eight different toys and books to keep him occupied; and there was the all-important sippy cup, plus a little stash of munchies in an ingenious plastic container with a cloth cover that allows him to access the food without spilling it all over the floor.

But I still hadn't expected that my son would have to hang out in the room the entire time the hygienist was sticking various devices into my mouth and making weird noises with them.

To my pleasant surprise, he was somewhat nonplussed to see it, but not frantic. The hygienist said that he seemed "concerned," and yes, every time I looked up, he was standing there with his eyes open wide, a look of distress on his face. But he wasn't bawling or screaming; he did yell a bit, as if to say "What the hell is happening, Mom?" but then he went back to his munchies and his toys. He came over close to me again; I lifted my head and smiled and said, "It's okay Baby, really it is," and he went back to the food.

We made it through the visit without any major trauma on either side...my son keeps surprising me with what he's capable of these days. Of course, a steady supply of munchies always helps.