more on the collision

One of the great things about momming it through grad school is that invariably when you feel like a failure in one of those roles, something happens in the other half of your life that is somehow buoying*.

So tonight, after a first-day of teaching and running some conferences with students (from past semesters), I am faced with the fight of my life (as I am every night): brushing the Monster Toddler’s teeth. Now let me be clear: I try my best to brush his teeth at least once a day. And when I am calm I can cajole him and we “brush together” and his teeth probably get semi-clean. But every once in a while I get a wild hair (normally when I remember that Hannah had a root canal at age 9) and decided that dang it, he needs his teeth BRUSHED. So I hold him down with one arm, and scrub his teeth. He HATES this, and it completely ruins him for bed time. He screams and hollers and then pouts and refuses to go pee or get his pajamas on and basically I’m screwed for the rest of the night.

This was tonight.

So then, I sit down to the ol’ machine to do some email and class prep, and have this chick ping me. And she shows me her finished web site that she worked on during my digital writing course last spring. She finished the site, which is meant to be an online portfolio, after she graduated last spring. I am quite proud!!

So: bad mom, good teacher. 🙂 Today anyway.

*This, of course, is not always true. Often the shit hits the fan on both accounts, and then you INVARIABLY want to throw yourself into the bushes. But it’s nice when it happens this way.

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4 thoughts on “more on the collision

  1. You could bribe him by letting him brush his teeth with pixie sticks or frosting. But I guess that would defeat the purpose.

    My dentist had to tell me to brush more gently. Seems I was wearing away my gums. That’s what those scare tactic school demos on tooth rot will get ya — obsessive brushers.

  2. I have started using fruit flavored toothpaste (something we didn’t have when we were kids), and that helped a little–for about a week.

    I too am an obsessive brusher and flosser. But the fact that I only am able to really brush his teeth *well* a few times a week does not worry me that I’ll erode his gums–I worry that when he’s 12 and able to throw me off, he won’t get them brushed at all.

  3. “I worry that when he’s 12 and able to throw me off, he won’t get them brushed at all.”

    Don’t make me laugh! It hurts too much…

  4. I have a lot of trouble brushing Rebekah’s teeth, but I recently bought some little paper Dixie cups for her to rinse her mouth. I let her fill it with water and rinse her mouth and spit (her favorite!) until the water is gone. It gets all over her and the counter, but she is happy. The catch–she has to let me brush her teeth before she gets her cup.

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