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Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Not Exactly A Field Trip

...but don't tell my kids that!

Recently, I took the troops out for dental appointments.  All five of them on the same day.  I was so glad to be able to do them all in one day, but I'm gonna be real honest.

I was more than a little apprehensive about the crazy that is more probability than possibility in situations like these. 

We finally switched to a local dentist after having stayed with the fabulous dentist who'd seen us through Elizabeth's mouth trauma.  I'm a loyal soul, but after three years of driving an hour for a twenty minute check-up, I was ready for a closer dentist for my kiddos.


A friend of mine recommended Dr. Moffett.  I asked around about him, checked out his website, and called them.  They had fabulous recommendations.  They're practically in my backyard.  It was a no-brainer, y'all.

But five kids for any kind of appointment makes my heart lurch.

Plus, I made this our first outing with Daniel in underwear.  Ahem.

Um, if you're in our area and you don't have a dentist for your kids, I'm just here to shout from the rooftops about these folks.  The hygienists were gentle and gracious and seemed to truly enjoy interacting with my exuberant kids and my shy kids.  Even Daniel hopped up on the table and opened his mouth.

I'm sure it helped a lot that there was  television playing Word World on the ceiling.

Dr. Moffett came through and gave us the great news "Five kids, no cavities!"  If I hadn't been so worried about Daniel and his pottying needs, I might've danced right there in front of all those sweet people.

The kids chattered all the way home about having their pictures taken (x-rays), their shiny new teeth, and who got the coolest toy from the dentist office.  They were SAD when I said we weren't due back until March.

Score!  

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Their Normal

It happens every year.  I wake up and start moving and then think about what day it is.  I recall clearly what I was wearing, the sunshine outside, the un-belief etched on every face I saw.

I talk with my kids about what happened that day.  The day when terrorists crashed planes into buildings and hundreds of innocent people died.  The day when a plane full of average Joe's became heros and died in a field.  The day when our nation was shocked but mobilized to do everything we could to care for our own.  Every year.  But apparently I'm a little misty eyed and vague.

Sarah Grace was looking at a book, apparently outdated, and asked what the Twin Towers were.

I wasn't even married yet.  My kids were just a part of the hopes I had for the future of my life.  I didn't know the power of a Mother's love or the sweet curves of their faces.



My kids have never seen the a New York skyline that includes the Twin Towers.  They've never lived in a time when our fathers, brothers, sisters, mothers weren't serving our country by inhabiting a land that hates us.  They've never known a country that didn't acknowledge September 11 with flags at half mast.

This is their normal.  It's not a change to them.  It's simply what they've always known.

I know that the stories I share with them are about as meaningful to them as stories of Pearl Harbor were to me.  It's just history.


But I know.  I remember.  And I'll do my part by sharing with my children my memories of my normal before 9/11.  It's part of my duty as a parent.