Last Wednesday evening, I noticed that something felt strange about one of my teeth.  Naturally, I prodded at it a bit with my tongue until I realized that I fairly large section of my molar was missing.  It didn’t hurt at all, but I got a slightly queasy feeling in the bit of my stomach when I peered in my mouth and saw a huge black chasm in my tooth.

When I told Shaun that it looked like a nice cozy cave for woodland creatures, he laughed at me. So did the dental assistant when I repeated my theory to her at my appointment first thing the next morning. (Why I bothered to share the one thought that helped me to deal with this trauma with anyone, I’ll never know…)  I wisely chose not to share my thoughts with the dentist.

I did however, tell the dentist that he was beginning to remind me of Steve Martin’s character in “The Little Shop of Horrors”.  This was probably not the best thing to say to the man who was getting ready to prowl around in my mouth with a drill and sharp pointy objects .   In my defense, he had just poked me hard enough with one of those pointy objects to make me scream and fly out of the chair.  Then he giggled with embarrassment as he apologized.

Dr. K was new to the practice, yet I found that I liked him immediately. (Despite the fact that he seemed to enjoy poking people)  He was young, forthright and had a great sense of humor.  He reminded me a lot of my baby brother. (Hmmmm….not exactly one of the things I that I look for in a dentist…)  He explained to me that my tooth had broken because of decay that had started to grow beneath a filling.  He was going to explore a bit to see how much damage there was beneath my mouth cave and then decide the best course of action from there.  

Fortunately, my nerve was not damaged so  they decided that the best way to go was to prep me for a crown (solidifying my Royal Status). Dr. K and his lovely assistant spent three hours working in my mouth before sending me on my merry way with a prescription for a pain killer and a warning that I would be sore for a day or two.

This morning, at Shaun’s nagging urging, I called the dental office again and told them that not only was my pain not subsiding, it was getting worse.  They told me to come in right away so they could see what was going on.  Dr. K made a worried face at the swollen white ridges in the back of my mouth.  After numbing me up (it’s really hard to get and keep me numb…my body metabolizes that stuff like crazy) he took some pointy tweezers in there and started pulling bits of the white stuff off.  It didn’t hurt, but I could feel exactly what he was doing and knew my mouth was going to be hamburger before he was done.  (it was/is). 

In the end it was decided that the tissue in my mouth had an adverse reaction to having so much anesthesia poured in to it. (Of course it had nothing to do with the size of those plungers needles he used to pour it into me.) This time, I was only in the chair for two hours…and walked out of there with three prescriptions. 

As soon as I got home, I couldn’t help it, I had to look at the back of my mouth in the mirror.  My stomach was definetly on the queasy side as I peered in to access the damage.  Of course the cozy cave that was in my tooth is long gone, but now I have condos for any small woodland creatures in search of a home.

Sigh…I need to go pop another one of those painkillers…

I can just barely remember one of the few times that we hopped in the car and drove a couple of hours to arrive at Disneyland.  It was a day of wonderment and joy in a young girl’s life.   At the end of the really long day, we stopped to ogle all of the wonders displayed in the gift shops along Main Street.   I desperately wanted something…anything…with a princess on it*, yet I knew that we could only afford to window shop.

The Christmas after that Disney trip, something magical happened,  Santa brought me a beautiful Cinderella watch.    It was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen in my young life and I simply adored it.   Every night, before going to sleep, I faithfully wound my new treasure up to keep her running smoothly.   I was more than happy to flash my beauty to anyone and proudly tell them exactly what time it was. 

Thinking about it now, I have no idea what happened to my Cinderella watch.  I suppose I eventually outgrew it and felt I needed to move beyond such childish things.

After that watch, I went through a succession of much more “grown up” watches.  Only…they never seemed to work quite right for me.   Despite the claims that some of my watches would “take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’” , none of  them would seem to keep proper time for me.  The only thing different about these newer watches (beyond the obvious lack of royalty) was that they didn’t need to be wound every night as they came with a new-fangled contraption called a battery.

When I heard that some people emitted a strange electromagnetic pulse that caused electronics to stop working, I knew that’s what was happening with my watches.   My watch was worn on my wrist…right where they take your pulse! (I knew this because of  my True Love, Johnny Gage)  Coincidence? I think not.

It did seem a little strange to me that I didn’t seem to effect other electronics such at the radio, TV or microwave.  (Then again, they weren’t right on my pulse)  It soon became apparent to me that my wonky electromagnetic pulse only effected things that I had intimate daily contact with.  Like my watch…or my coffee pot.

It’s true, no matter how careful I am, I can’t seem to keep a coffeepot alive for much more than a year.   (No, I don’t wear my coffeepot strapped to my wrist, but I do enjoy having coffee pulse through my veins)  Right now, I honestly can’t think of anything worse than waking up ready for that first cup of morning coffee to find nothing but a cold, empty pot.

A couple years ago, somebody mentioned that there are other brands of coffee makers out there.   It was gently suggested to me that I should try one of them instead of  the same one that broke every year, just like clockwork.  Hmmm….what a concept.

So, I grit my teeth and bought the best coffee pot Costco had.  It was four times as much as I had ever paid for a pot before. Oh, but  what a coffee pot!  All I had to do was set it up at night and first thing in the morning it would wake me up with the gentle sound of grinding beans.  Then shortly after the snooze alarm would be the scent of freshly brewing coffee.  I hesitate to say it, but I think I loved this coffeepot more than I ever dreamed of loving my Cinderella watch.

Did you notice that I’m using past tense?  Sadly, after nearly three years (a record!) of faithful service, my coffee pot decided that it would no longer brew anything for me…no matter how much I pleaded with it.  After a couple days of making do with hot tea and nearest latte stand (no shortage of those here in Seattle…too bad they don’t deliver!) I once again made my way to see what Costco had to offer me.   I cringed as I offered up my debit card for my expensive new pot…but I knew it would be worth it.

And now, it’s time for me to enjoy a cup of freshly brewed coffee..and to  finally figure out how to control my electromagnetic pulses.   I’m quite content to live life on it’s own time…but don’t mess with my java!

*This was way before Disney had saturated the world

The first day of school went amazingly well.  All the worries I had about everyone getting up before the  Crack of Dawn were completely unfounded.  When my alarm went off, KT was already up, fully dressed and straightening her hair.  (Which really confuses me as she has the straightest hair of anyone I know…how do you make it straighter than straight?)

Then next thing I knew, Mimi stumbled out of her room to stake her claim on the bathroom mirror.  She had agonized over what  to wear the night before (and I do mean agonized!) so it was a breeze for her to get ready. 

The night before Mimi had even made lunches for both herself and her sister.   She even included a sweet little note written on a napkin for her sister.  (I’m pretty much convinced that an alien ship landed and switched children on me…this is not normal behavior!)

I reminded both girls that I needed to take their picture before they left.   KT tried her best to convince me that we should do it indoors, but I refused to break tradition.  We’ve always taken first day photos right outside our front door.  (of course,  in the younger years they went to school later and it wasn’t dark out!)

This isn’t kt’s best picture.  She really wasn’t very awake and my camera wasn’t cooperating.   All of what should have been the cute shots came out as black little boxes…sigh….

Mimi was very awake an hour later when it was her turn to leave for the bus stop. (apparently so was my camera because it was cooperating then!)

They both had a great day, catching up with friends and meeting their new teachers.   Today was another fairly easy day of getting up early.  Only Mimi didn’t want to be bothered with making the lunches…it’s all downhill from here….

Every year, a few weeks before school starts, I start to wean us from our nocturnal habits.   When the girls were little, it wasn’t really that big of a deal when the girls were tiny as I had pretty much kept them on a routine…and they liked getting up early back then. 

Now that the girls are older, the story is a bit different.   It seems normal to stay up late just hanging out, watching movies, chatting with friends, having sleep-overs…  After a couple weeks of  talking about switching to the famed “early to bed, early to rise” way of thinking, I finally took action…two nights ago. 

On Monday morning, I woke Mimi up at shortly before the Crack of Dawn.  She buried her head under the blanket and asked me why  she had to get up early right away, and then wondered if we could ease into it, slowly.  I was just asleep enough to be agreeable and re-set my alarm.   Forty-five minutes after my alarm went off,  I dragged Mimi out of bed.  (Apparently were were really going to ease into it.)

So this morning,  determined to get at least one trial run in, I woke my child up and dragged her out of bed.  We sat together on the couch, staring blearily at each other, pretending that we were wide awake.  Finally, Mimi asked what we should be doing.  My poor sleep-deprived brain simply didn’t have an answer for her.

Finally, we came to the decision that we had proved our point that we were quite capable of getting up before the birds did.  So…we went back to bed for three more hours.

Tomorrow is going to be interesting….

This really isn’t an issue for KT as she has been getting up early for work all summer long. Tough kid.