For the past month, getting Kate’s teeth brushed has been a battle of epic proportions. She’s quite content to “brush” her own teeth, as in sucking the toothpaste off the brush and the brush making little (if any) contact with her teeth. When I attempt to brush her teeth, she acts as if I am wielding an ice pick and attempting to do an unmedicated extraction.
My first brushing game involved finding sugar on her teeth to scrub off. Look Kate, I see RED sugar. Scrub scrub scrub. Uh oh, I see some BLUE sugar. Scrub scrub scrub. That lasted for, oh, a couple of days. Then she’d say, “I ALREADY got all the sugar off mom. DON’T BRUSH MY TEETH!” Kate: 1 Mom: 0
The second brushing game involved searching for animals in her mouth. Oh no Kate, I think I see a bumble bee. Scrub scrub scrub. Let me look on the bottom and find that snake. Scrub scrub scrub. Yikes, a lion in your mouth. Scrub scrub scrub. I’d give this one a generous week of success. Then, Kate started each morning with a giant, blubbering spit, “I SPIT all of the aminals (yes, that’s how she says it) out already. DON’T BRUSH MY TEETH MOM!” Kate: 2 Mom: 0
The third desperate attempt involved having her beloved Baby Kate brush her teeth. The sacrifices we make in the name of motherhood. Do you know just how ridiculous I look trying to use a plastic doll’s hand to brush Kate’s teeth while cheerfully saying, “Baby Kate says open up …”? Scrub scrub scrub. That one lasted for a couple of days at best. Suddenly Baby Kate “Doesn’t want to brush my teeth ANYMORE mom. Her doesn’t like to brush my teeth.” Kate: 3 Mom: 0
It’s entirely possible that I am making this more difficult than it needs to be, but I can’t get the kid to brush her damn teeth. It’s been a three ring circus, with me as the starring freak show. Recently, I resorted to threats and bribery. Yeah, well, those aren’t working so well either.
Why am I in a panic today? I’m glad you asked. I’m in a panic because tomorrow Kate has a dentist appointment. You know why they make 2 year olds go to the dentist, right? It’s a basic measure of public humility for the mom, and a true indicator of who is running the house. Of course I don’t brush her teeth Doc, I wasn’t quite sure that there was a necessity. (That last line must be read in a nice southern drawl, for effect you know).