Four days from now will mark one month that Wesley’s been walking. I’ve been wanting to share a video of this milestone, but keep having issues with my Flip software ever since the last update.
It’s officially summer now. We’ve managed to bear the heat here and there to go bicycle riding, which Wesley loves, or to bask out in the balcony enjoying our new sand and water table and the great little outdoor area Craig set up for us. I’d love to share it with you, but it seems my card reader is wonky now, too, so I don’t have access to my photos either. It hasn’t all been horrible, but it seems we’ve hit a bit of a rough patch ’round these parts.
Wesley seems, perhaps like other toddlers – perhaps not, to ride these waves where for weeks at a time he’s simply delightful in every way and then for weeks at a time practically everything puts him over the edge. We’re experiencing one of these latter waves right about now.
No, it isn’t all horrible. He loves to splash water all about his new little table. He’s practicing his moonwalking skills doing the most adorable backwards walk. And he seems to be speaking a whole lot these days (Craig and I are really making an effort to put the pacifiers away except for naps and bedtimes, and I really believe this is helping his speech). I’m pretty sure that I can now make out him saying “outside,” “inside,” “car,” and a few others in addition to the ones already in his repertoire.
But when the aforementioned bicycle rides come to an end, he gets mad. If either Craig or I walk into another room without him, or dare leave the house, he gets mad. If he cannot walk to his desired location, he gets mad. If he cannot get his hands on the GPS, remote control, Xbox controller or _________ (insert any electronic device in the blank), he gets mad. And he’s pretty much refusing to eat anything that is not dairy, a vegetable, a fruit, or a cracker.
He’s also caught a cold. And I’m almost certain he’s teething, working on the dreaded canine teeth I’ve read such horrors about. This is exactly what he was like about two months ago when he cut his first molars. Teething. It’s the bane of my existence.
Not that I got any real confirmation of this when we took him to his first dental appointment today. I finally found a pediatric dentist office that would see toddlers as young as Wes. Even though the American Academy of Pediatric Dentists supposedly recommends that you take your children by the time the first tooth comes out or by no later than 1, I hadn’t found any takers. Every other pediatric dentist office I’d contacted wouldn’t see him until 2.
But I couldn’t wait anymore. About four months ago, I became worried about one of Wesley’s teeth when he took two small tumbles that caused him some bleeding from the mouth. Though neither appeared serious, I soon after noticed a black line of sorts at the base of the gum line behind one of Wesley’s bottom center teeth. At his12 month appointment, the pediatrician assured me it was nothing more than dried blood. But three months later – today even – I could still see the mark. And I’d become quite paranoid about it, as you can imagine. The Internet is a dangerous thing. Most of my online “research” yielded one of two possibilities: 1. decay (!) or 2. damage to the tooth, probably permanent (!!). As in, goodbye precious baby tooth, hello gap for the next six years. Horrors! So I looked online for other dentists I hadn’t tried months before, made a call, and scheduled an appointment, sick baby or not. I went in hoping for the best and expecting the worst.
And you want to know what was what?
Blueberries. That’s right: blueberries. Blueberries had stained the back of Wesley’s tooth. The boy had his mouth open, not willingly I might add, the dentist looked in and almost immediately asked us: does he eat blueberries? Does he ever. So they scraped it right off and that was that. After months of worry: staining, no biggie. Happens with blueberries or cranberries or from the iron in toddler vitamins. Floss. Use non-fluoride toothpaste to brush twice a day. Come back in three to six months to start regular visits. Blah, blah. The end.
Teeth: they’re going to be the end of me, though all in all, the visit wasn’t so terrible. I think Wesley was more upset by being kept from walking than by the actual exam (not that he loved that). And neither Craig nor I cared much for the doctor’s bedside manner (I think we’ll stick with the practice until at least a second appointment but request a different doctor the next time around). But I can stop imagining Wesley as a second grade toothless wonder, at least for now.