Breaking Three (and a half)

Longest post ever...Hang in there...there are more pictures toward the bottom...for those that need that sort of thing.

As I mentioned yesterday, the first day of school was awesome. It was perfect in many ways. What you didn't know about was our little "accident" while on vacation last week in Los Angeles. Now, you may remember this little incident. Same kid, different day. Hayden is what we commonly refer to as a "flight risk." Blink, and he's off and running. To him...it's hilarious. To us, it is growing increasingly more dangerous and it's breaking us...and well...him.

"Where should I bolt to next?"

Rewind to last week. We were frolicking on the beach adjacent to the Santa Monica Pier. We settled in amidst a sea of smoking foreigners. I dug myself into the sand as I was on crutches last week, nursing a calf muscle injury and could barely limp. It was crowded, and Hayden thankfully had decided that the ocean was even a little too daunting for him. Usually, I encourage my guys to face their fears - but in the case of my magic Haydini, I was happy to have him sit still with me. But that quickly changed... and he fled.

He ran towards the lifeguard stand and proceeded to climb up the rail. These were your run-of-the-mill Baywatchesque towers, and quite honestly, a fall from the stand to the sand would have been more startling than overly dangerous. I felt paralyzed (which has since morphed into guilt) because I physically could not run to grab him. Andy was in the ocean with Ry and I was surrounded by Borat meets Studio 54...these beach goers would render themselves useless.

In any case, I began to yell my usual chant...

"Hayden GET DOWN... Hayden, NO...ANDY!...Hayden STOP!"

Finally, my cries were answered and Andy ran to the scene to grab HasselHay from the stand. As he was coming down, BONK. For the second time this year, those two Tic-Tac front baby teeth made contact with an inanimate object. The first time the teeth took a beating was from a failed dresser-to-bed dive. We have small teeth marks in the bed frame to this day to prove it. That time, we were able to save the teeth, even though they had been knocked slightly loose. This time? The lip gushed with blood like before, but those teeth were way more mobile.

Well, since we were well versed in what-to-do-when-you-have-a-baby-tooth-trauma, I made the quick decision that we would bypass the lip and work to save the teeth! It was clear that we needed to find a pediatric dentist, STAT. Important to note...it was almost 5pm in Los Angeles.

If you know anyone who has yet to jump on the smartphone bandwagon, this scenario could not make me advocate for this convenience more. We had NO referrals for a dentist in the area, and so the search began. I called my dental office back home for my insurance information and hopefully a referral. They had none. Meanwhile, the crying was thankfully silenced by Hayden falling asleep after his traumatic experience. Oh, did I mention it was now 5pm?

Where to turn now? YELP! Armed with my insurance info and my smart phone of course, I searched "Pediatric Dentists West Hollywood." I barely read any reviews, but chose the closest mapped dentist with the most stars. We found a place called Toothbuds in West LA. After some back and forth calling, finding out that my youngest was uninsured *WHAT HUH WHAT* and a quick call to Delta Dental and my employer's HR department to straighten this sh!t out, I had what I needed. Thankfully Dr. Tali and her team could fit us in...at 5:45pm. Read more about them here. So we drove 4 miles in 30 minutes. I love LA.

Here was the waiting room scene...One. Hot. Mess.

Diagnosis? The bottom line was, he'd been through enough that day, so better to just let his lip heal and the swelling go down. Anything she would do that day could be done days later with no repercussions. Dr. Tali = Awesome. I even received a follow up call on Monday, her knowing fully well, we might never set foot in her office again. I Yelped her awesomeness immediately... my second entry ever. I'm not a chronic Yelper, but I may start.

So here we are...finally. Six days later, back home, and geared up for our post-first-day-of-school dental appointment, with awesome Dr. Quo in Palo Alto, the local go-to Peds guy. Hayden was feeling good about the idea of getting some help with this painful and loose tooth that had kept him on a soft food diet and without his beloved pacifier. Note - Dr. Tali recommended taking advantage of this paci-less window to ween him. So far so good. No Paci for almost a week and he had done well with the excuse "Doctors Orders!"

Hayden saddled up to the dental chair or table-bed... whatever that thing is called. He was in good spirits because where else can you lay on a table and watch TV on the ceiling? Tom and Jerry. He was psyched.

He needed some X-rays. I had never seen this kind of medical cooperation from him. I was relieved when he followed the instructions to open his mouth, hold still and bite down. Ah-mah-zing!

All was hunkydory until....

Here is where we took a turn for the worse. Hayden's tooth was indeed fractured. We could have left it in to run its course, however, the discomfort and inability to eat normal foods lead us to the decision to pull the tooth. Now, Hay has never really had a dental visit before, except for my wonderful Dr. explaining the perils of sugar bugs and counting his teeth. So basically, after this fiasco, we are totally screwed for all future visits. Dr. Quo agreed that there really was no fabulous other way to do this. Here we go.

First came the laughing gas. This was supposed to comfort him enough to be able to get a couple of shots of Novocain in his gum line. He wasn't having it. We tried tirelessly to liken it to an elephant trunk, a batman mask, crap...just drugs to make his face feel better. He was fighting. Soon, the cool shades came out and it helped to somehow blind him from the gas mask enough to go for it. Step one. Completed.

Here is where things got super sucky. The needle. I don't think the gas disguised that needle one bit for Hay. At the first poke, the wailing started. Seeing your child in pain is the worst, and knowing that I made the call to yank the tooth just added to the devastation. We were also in a situation where the dentist, the assistant and I had to pin him down so that we could get the injections finished while he screamed and was shaking with fear. The actual extraction process takes only seconds, but the lead-up was excruciating.

When all was said and done, the crying persisted out the door and into the lobby where the parents in the waiting room just looked at me with empathetic expressions. The wailing was soon replaced by crying over the "prizes" in the prize machine. Hayden wanted a red ninja out of the ninja gumball-like dispenser. Six try's later, we were good-to-go...and we then hit up the Creamery for some ice cream.

And so... we close the book on another unwanted and unwelcomed first. I now have a 3 1/2 year old with one less tooth, a bounty from the Tooth Fairy, serious bragging rights at Nursery School, and no recollection that this entire situation could have been avoided by not running off, coupled with listening to his parents.

Congratulations. You made it to the end. Thanks for listening.

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What A Boy Wants

Hello Blogesphere! This Mom has been incredibly swamped and has clearly skipped over some monumental times in our family's 2011 history. For example, Ryder started Kindergarten this year, then there was the infamous Venus Fly Trap costume for Halloween, and so on and so forth. I believe for the next couple of entries, I will be skipping around a bit...you know, to keep life interesting. Just to stay relevant, and to make me feel like I am on top of things, I'll recap yesterday...

 

Grandma Bevy invited us to the Hyatt Regency for Breakfast with Santa. Sadly, I think it was the first time either of our kids had actually sat on Santa's lap...not sure why, but I have a feeling that Daddy & Mommy's crowd-aversion-illness is to blame. Regardless of their lack of practice, these two little people had no problem climbing into the Jolly Old Man's Lap and rattling off their wishes. 

Santa: Hayden, what would you like for Christmas

Hayden: A Pirate

Santa: And...

Hayden: A crocodile trap

Santa: Um, okay... that might be tough. Anything else?

Hayden: Candy

We had to later explain that a certain unwelcome house guest and one non-approved-by-Peta item would be a tad hard to come by.  He's 2...he may forget he asked anyway...although Candy seems to be a recurring request.

Now, it was Ry's turn.


Mommy: Ry, it's your turn to tell Santa what you want for Christmas.

Ry: (in his best "he should already know" voice) Well, I already circled it all in the catalog.

Santa: Ho Ho Ho! What would you like for Christmas... 


How much time do you have?

Happy Labor Day

Straight from the mouth of our 2.5 year old:

I'm having fun at the beach...capiche?

Hope you are having a great holiday weekend as well!

HAIR

{I think we have EVERY fallen lock. *sniff*}

It has been 2 years and 4 months and not a hair has been snipped from our youngster's head. Beautiful, bouncy, soft, golden curls flowed from Hay Hay's head and were a popular conversation starter. Conversations like, "How old is your daughter?" "Your daughter's hair is beautiful!" "Is your daughter okay?" were commonplace. My mother's favorite conversation starter of late has been, "When are you going to cut his hair?" My response was usually, "Never. Leave me alone. Stop asking."

We always knew we were going to have to cut it at some point, but we were having a terrible time taking the leap. The hair had become such a major part of him that we felt as if somehow, he was like Samson, and that cutting off his hair would result in the loss of some sort of power...or incredible cuteness. We couldn't let Hay Hay suffer the same fate as poor Keri Russell when "Felicity" cut off her beautiful mane and caused the show to "Jump the Shark." No. Hay's series would not be cancelled.

Today, we decided that we could no longer let our selfishness drive this train. It's summer, he's hot, and constantly pushing it out of his eyes. It was time. The second part of the haircut equation, was finding a place where he would sit still long enough to not only get a haircut, but get a GOOD hair cut. The "not moving" issue trumped all others and so we opted for the kid-centered, television-zombie-making locale. Reluctantly, we ventured out the door on our quest and headed to Snip-Its.

As he sat in the chair, thankfully DIEGO played on the screen. Diego and Dora are good friends of his, so there was an instant comfort in that.  We got off to a rough start, but once we introduced more Diego, bubbles, and candy, we were well on our way. And we have to say...it turned out great.

Mommy & Daddy failed at one major thing... we didn't bring the good camera. Enjoy our cruddy cell phone shots. At least our subject is cute.

There's Nothing Mellow About This Yellow

Yes! It's pee. In the potty. Unsolicited. All Hay Hay's!!!!!

Today you are 2 years and 49 days. We haven't felt the need to start potty training you nor put you through the rigors of Potty Boot Camp. All we did was take the potty out of the garage...wait...that wasn't us, it was your loving Nanny...but I think we told her to...right?  Anyway, it has been sitting in the bathroom for weeks. Occasionally you will sit on it before bath time, but we could care less what you do with it. Sometimes the seat comes out and gets worn on your head. Clever. Just get comfortable with it, we say.

Today was different. As we got ready for bath tonight, you decided to sit on it. You see your big brother pee all the time...it's gotta be fun, right? You sat on the potty, I told you to pee....and VOILA! If you don't do it again for another year, I won't care. I am just so proud of you today.

PS- you have 479 days to get it down - that's when you start school. No pressure. 

No Refunds After 90 Days

At lunch today, out of nowhere, Ryder strolls out of his room (yes, you heard me, it was lunchtime, and Ryder was not eating. Shocker.)

Ryder: Mommy, can you return babies?

Mom: what do you mean?

Ryder: Can we return a baby for another baby as cute as a baby whale?

Mom: What baby would we return? When you return something, you need to bring something back to the store before you get the new thing that you want.

Ryder: Silence.

Mom: What baby?

Ryder: Well, can we return Hayden for a baby as cute as a baby whale?

Mom: You want a baby whale?

Ryder: NO!... A.... BABY...AS...CUTE...AS...A...BABY...WHALE.

I guess I should tell him what happened at Sea World... not cute.