Well lets just say that I had false high hopes for the dentist. I was bringing Dylan to the pediatric dentist that I had gone to as a child. It is a great place that they let the kids wear sunglasses, give prizes, and even allow them to enter the monthly raffle for adoptable pets (the newest animal at build a bear gets to be adopted by the winning child). Dylan was so excited to go we talked about it for days and even woke up at six in the morning asking when we were leaving. You all know where this is headed. So we get there still excited, We walk into the examine room-still excited, we are asked to sit in the chair-Hysterical panic sets in. So here I am, one month out from a c-section, and he is on my lap and won't leave. They were great with him trying to encourage him, work with him, bribe him etc. Then finally the dentist comes in and asks if they can help me "hold him" so she can check his teeth and not to worry that this happens all the time. So the two assistants come in and hold him into the chair and the dentist used Dylan's new tooth brush to prevent him from biting her fingers while she checks her teeth. The entire time he is screaming and crying and the dentist is continuing to tell me what great teeth he has and that this is all normal. So finally, the trip is over and sniffling Dylan has gotten his prize I am stressed and sweating from the battle. A half hour later we are eating lunch and Dylan looks at me with a big smile and asks me "Momma, Can we go to the dentist tomorrow"
That was when I thought to myself that perhaps I might not be prepared for what everyone tells me are the terrible threes.