Carla and I have had such an exciting week (no). Yesterday, for instance, we went to the dentist and the library AND the thrift store (to drop off donations, not to look for anything fun), and then we waited for someone from the security company to arrive (he came an hour early) and for someone from the roofing company to arrive (he came an hour and twenty minutes late).
But the dentist visit and the library visit, at least, gave me a chance to indulge in a little nostalgia.
Carla, by the way, is so much better about the dentist than she used to be. It was once a source of tremendous anxiety. I can empathize with this, because I too get extremely anxious when I go to the dentist. (Sidebar: I recently was having some tooth pain that was severe enough I was afraid I would need another root canal. And my biggest fear about seeking treatment was not the root canal itself, but the fear of enduring the cold test that they use to diagnose the issue. That was the worst pain I have ever endured, and I was shaking and teary just thinking about the possibility of facing it again. I wondered if I could just… get a root canal without the diagnostic test [probably not]. Anyway, the happy but also deeply disturbing outcome was that I somehow had a piece of aluminum foil stuck in between my teeth that was causing the pain. Once I figured that out, the pain miraculously evaporated. I can figure out how to avoid the cold test another time, huzzah.) The hygienist used to have to wheedle and finagle Carla into doing anything. Brushing her teeth with the weird gritty polish was always A Process that involved lots of negotiation and Mean Mommy Voice. She actively and vehemently resisted the fluoride application, thrashing around and refusing to open her mouth. Our hygienist really got a workout, back in those days.
But! Now Carla is very nonchalant about the whole thing. I asked her in the car if she wanted me to walk her through what to expect, and she said yes. Then she decided in advance which kind of tooth polish she would prefer (grape, or mint) (she ended up choosing cookie dough; gag me). Then I told her that if fluoride was an option, we were going to do it. She still hates the fluoride.
The thing is, fluoride treatment is so infinitely better than it used to be! She has it so easy! The hygienist gets out a teeny little tub of fluoride (seriously, there must be 1/2 teaspoon in there IF THAT) (and each tiny tub costs $40 out of pocket; our dental insurance – which we are extremely lucky to have, I know! – only covers one fluoride treatment a year, even though our dentist recommends it every six months) and paints it on her teeth and she’s good to go! The only restriction is she can’t drink hot liquids for an hour. That’s it!
When I was a kid, the fluoride treatment was a nightmare. The hygienist gave me a teeny cup full of caustic red liquid and I had to put ALL of it into my mouth and swish it around for a full minute. A full minute is like a million years when you are six or ten or however old I was! And the hygienist always cautioned me to not swallow any. I am a rule follower and also a catastrophizer, so I imagined that swallowing even a teeny amount would kill me. I hated it so much!
There was a fluoride innovation at some point in my youth. Instead of the swishing liquid, my hygienist started carrying a fluoride foam. She would put the foam into the channels of a two-sided flimsy foam U, and I had to bite down on the U so that my teeth would be submerged in foam. Then I had to hold it there, not swallowing for a full minute. This was slightly better because the foam was sweet instead of caustic. But the foam would get all over my face, and by the end of the minute it would be dripping down my chin. Plus, once again I was afraid that even swallowing a teeny amount would result in my immediate death.
Fluoride treatments were the worst! And my parents had no sympathy for me, just as I have no sympathy for Carla. Because I know how it used to be.
(I mean, I have a little sympathy for her. I know it’s bitter and sticky and annoying. But I’m not going to let her skip it, as she pleads for me to do every six months.)
After the dentist, we went to the library. There was a mesh box on a desk in the kids’ section with three monarch caterpillars in various stages of development in it, and another mesh box on a separate table with a real-live chrysalis in it. Next to the second box was a display of books about bugs and butterflies.
Libraries are AWESOME. I just love that the librarians, or someone high up in the library admin, think about how to engage young minds and make learning fun and interesting.
Libraries, in my experience, are a whole lot better than they used to be. And to be fair, my library was the only one in my entire hometown, and my hometown was at least half an hour away from any other town. Where I live now, we have dozens of libraries that are nearby and easy to access. I patronize three regularly. (We are going to have a NEW library and NEW library system when we move, and my husband and I took Carla to check out the library early on in our house hunt to make sure that it was acceptable. Also, we looked into whether we could keep our existing library cards – yes – because we adore our library system.)
There are special displays set up by the librarians – book club picks, books on rotating themes (gardening, DIY, cooking international recipes), books about whatever holiday is coming up, books by famous authors who have recently celebrated a birthday, received an award, or passed away. There are rows and rows of computers. There are glass-walled rooms furnished with tables and computer hookups that you can reserve online for your homework session or writing group. There are innumerable classes you can take and activities you can attend – all for free. The librarians are friendly and knowledgeable and you (Carla) can ask them for recommendations fitting very specific criteria and they will walk you through the stacks and pull out multiple options and reserve several more for you online. You can pre-order books and come inside to pick them up or get them through the drive-up window. There are always crafts you can take home and reading contests you can participate in.
When I was kid, you had to whisper in the library. If you didn’t, you would suffer the wrath of the librarian. The librarian was also deeply disapproving of the number of books I checked out each week – although perhaps, in hindsight, my lack of proper book transportation device may have been the subject of her disapproval. I tended to leave with a teetering stack of books in my bare hands.
My local library took up both floors of a two-story building. It had stacks of books. It had a space for reading periodicals. It had an elevator. You could look things up in the card catalog, and you could research old periodicals on the microfiche machine. There may have been a computer or three. It had a lot to offer. But I don’t remember special displays or targeted groupings of books, or librarians who smiled and told you about monarchs. I do remember that if you read a certain number of books, you could win a free pizza from Pizza Hut… but I think that was a program run through my elementary school, and not the library. (Ah, yes. It was called Book It! and it is still active today!)
(Another sidebar: I wonder if my love for things like pizza and tacos originated with school reward systems? In addition to Book It!, there were frequently pizza parties we could win for various things that have escaped my memory. The pizza party part was the important part, not whatever it was we had to do to earn it. In high school, people on the honor roll got to go to lunch early, and on Fridays we had Pizza Hut pizza. I loved being one of the very first kids in line to get the pizza while it was hot and the cheese was melty. YUM. But even better than pizza: We could get a free taco for every A on our report card. Is there any better incentive? NOT FOR ME THERE ISN’T. My mom saved all my report cards in my baby book and it tickles me to see the little stamps from the taco place on each A to indicate I’d collected my free tacos.)
I’m not saying that Today’s World is perfect; I know it has deep and terrifying flaws. But in lots of ways, big and tiny, important and inconsequential, my kid has it really, really good. I try not to “back in my day” her very often, but some things are much better these days. Although I do feel bad that she doesn’t get free pizza and tacos in exchange for her grades.
Do you remember fluoride treatments from when you were a kid? Did you have any food-based rewards systems when you were growing up? What is something that makes you think kids these days have it a lot easier than you did?
life of a doctor's wife 