My Apologies

I need to say sorry. To the dental hygienist. I was out of line.

Teeth whitening. SO. WORTH. IT.

Treasures

When Allison was Trent’s age shopping could be a drag. For everyone involved. Even other customers around us at the store. We would go to the store because Mommy wanted to and then Allison would wait impatiently for Mommy to look at some boring stuff and make up her mind about said boring stuff while fussing at Allison to stop touching things and crawling under the dressing room stall door. It was never an experience that either of us looked forward to.

Finding ways to entertain herself while waiting for Mom at the store became a creative endeavor that Allison attacked with vigor. There was a whole repertoire of activities that could make Mom crazy enough while shopping that she might just cut the whole trip short. There was Mirror Dancing, Crawling Under Clothing Rack Tunnels, Cart Climbing, Tag Pulling, Icee/Toy Begging, Fragile Item Touching and my personal favorite: Trash Collecting.

Of the myriad of choices to pick from Trash Collecting was without a doubt the one thing that could produce a reaction resulting in a quicker shopping experience and Allison used it often. There’s lots to look at in a store for grown ups, but for little people the fascination is not what’s for sale. It’s what’s on the floor. And there’s lots there folks. Lots.

As we made our way through the store, I’d be looking up and Allison would be looking down. Like breadcrumbs in the forest, the items she saw on that floor would lead her places I did not appreciate her being led, distracting me from my mission. She would find buttons, paper clips, price tags, sequins, plastic, fuzz balls, thread, pennies. You name it, it was probably there somewhere and she would find it.

We’d get in the car and her pockets would be chock full of department store trash and she was beaming. She loved it. And me….I was scowling. I would say, “Allison, why do you HAVE to pick up that garbage?” And one day, smiling, she stopped me in my tracks by saying, “Mom, it’s not trash. It’s treasures! I’ve got treasures!” She would take them home and put them into some little box and save them until the next treasure hunt when she could add to them again. I never called the things she collected anything other than Treasures after that. The name stuck, and when I thought about how it kept her occupied while I hunted for my own Treasures, the expensive kind, I could look at the trash as something I almost appreciated in a wierd kind of way.

Shopping with Allison is a totally different experience now that she is almost eleven. We are usually on the same mission these days and she has outgrown her own Treasure Hunting days. But fighting us every step of the way, no matter where we happen to be, is the newest treasure hunter in our midst. Trent. The difference is he is a boy and he is much louder and more active about it, which makes both me and Allison nuts at times. And the hunting isn’t limited to stores. His Treasures are rocks, stickers, acorns, feathers, sticks, seashells, snail shells, a tiny statue left behind in the sand at the beach, sand FROM the beach, broken toys and beads. From ANYWHERE he can find them. And he keeps them all lined up on the windowsill in his room, a proud assembly he refers to as My Collection. But no matter how annoying it can be that he is always clutching some little piece of the world to save, after learning from Allison,we have always praised and encouraged his Treasures and he cherishes that Collection.

And every time I see them there on the windowsill it reminds me to stop and look at the little things….the moments that make me crazy….the trash that accumulates in my life at times….and consider whether they might just be Treasures after all.

And I learned this from the best Treasure Hunters I know. My kids.

Phone Phobia

Okay. Can someone please tell me why I am the ONLY person in this house who seems to be able to acknowledge the ring of the telephone? It rings and rings and rings and no one in this house moves to answer it, EXCEPT ME. There are three other people living in this house, but if mom doesn’t get it then it does not get answered. Period. Someone who is not me could be sitting on the phone and still not answer it and I will have to run in from three rooms away and pry it out from underneath someone’s fanny to do it myself.

Is it possible that our telephone ring is like a dog whistle and I am the only one with sophisticated enough hearing to actually hear it?

Nope. Because when I asked why no one else answers the phone, here’s the answer I got: Because it’s always for you anyway, mom. Argh!

End rant.

The Bright Side….of my teeth

Okay. I am feeling the need to improve myself a bit. You know how that works, right? You start feeling pretty crappy about yourself and out of control, so in order to take control you start to exercise and diet, get a haircut and a pedicure, buy some new clothes…and whiten your teeth. Doesn’t everyone do this?

It’s not that I’m the kind of person who lets herself go. I do try, but sometimes I get lazy I guess and well, it’s summer for heaven’s sake and it’s easy to be lazy. Especially when you are feeling crappy.

I’ve always felt funny about the teeth. I see other people with these sparkling smiles and I am so freaking jealous. I mean, how does that happen? What are they doing to get those? Are they actual teeth, for real? I brush my teeth. I’m not the most religious flosser (*wince*), but take care of them, I do. I don’t drink coffee often or eat too many sweets. I get regular cleanings two or three times a year. Haven’t had a cavity in years. But still they are yellow – ISH. I don’t get it.

A year or two ago, when those whitestrip thingies came out, I gave them a shot. I thought it would be an easy way to fix the problem. But, foolishly, I forgot, there are no really easy ways to fix anything really. I bought some of those suckers, they are not cheap either, and slapped two of them on my teeth. It wasn’t too bad…until I took them off. Um, let me just say, YUCK! You know, when it comes to putting things in your mouth, taste is everything. These sucked. They were really, really heinous. I mean it. So $35.00 worth of whitestrips rotted in the bathroom closet until I threw them away. Yellow teeth problem still not solved.

Fast forward to now at the dentist’s office. On the counter in the exam room is a sign: Teeth whitening half off in July. Hmmmm. I don’t know. The taste thing still haunts me. I asked the hygienist once ”how bad does it really suck to do this whitening thing?” It’s so easy, she says, not bad at all. And it is half off. So my interest is peaked, 1) because I find it incredibly hard to resist a bargain, and 2) the whitestrip incident is so far in the past that it is like childbirth: you forget how painful it was.

So I make the appointment. I go in. With my kids, I might add, since it is summer and I can go no freaking where alone anymore. I get the molds taken for the trays. I learn how to put in the gel. It seems so easy and it only takes a week. That’s liveable. Piece of cake, right?

WRONG. It still sucks. I put it in this morning and I am all positive about it and all and then some of the gel seeps over the top of the tray and….GAG! I mean, it…is…bad. How bad will it be when take it off?? I can’t believe I have to wear this for four hours each day and all night for a week. AND that is just the top tray. THEN I have to do the bottom tray for another week. ACK! I should kick that hygienist’s a** for talking me into this crap. (I know. I said I was feeling crappy. I KNOW it’s not really her fault.)

So, maybe when my teeth are all bright and shiny I will be glad. Right now, I am just trying to focus on the ON SALE part…gag…EW! Somehow the “power score” can always get me through.

But you better compliment my pearly whites the next time you see me. Just for good measure.