When will I learn?

How many times am I actually going to have to say this before it truly sinks in?

Have I not done this to myself enough times to actually learn to NOT SAY IT from here on out?!?

I just said yesterday something to the effect of, "being over the hump" with my wisdom teeth. That was at about 3 p.m. or so. About 12 hours later, I woke up in horrific pain.

Great. Here we go.

So, I called the Dr. this morning, and they said:

"Hmmmmm. You should be feeling much better now, not worse. You'd better come in right away."

Do they not know that this is easier said than done?

But, I loaded up my crew and we headed to the oral surgeon. Yes, all four of us.

We got there, and the nurse says to me, "Oh! You have your children with you!" I mean, she wasn't snotty about it or anything, but 'pleased to see them' wasn't exactly the expression I was reading either.

"What was I supposed to do? Leave them at home while I jaunted off to the office for a few minutes?" I thought.

I digress.

Anyway, we walk into the office. There was the 'patient chair', and then one other 'visitor' chair. Colin and Cameron had been threatened with their lives that they better behave in this office talked to before we left (and on the way....and when we got there....and just before going in) about obeying mommy and being on their best behaviors while we were in this tiny room, so they knew what was going on. They both walk quietly over to the chair; Colin got up in the chair; he then proceeded to help Cameron up in the chair; then Colin got back down; opened the diaper bag to reveal the books we had chosen to bring along; leafed through each one; picked one; handed it to Cameron; then picked one more for himself, and climbed back into the chair.

Ah, my sweet angels. *giggle*

I sat Ethan down on my lap with me in the 'patient chair' (where he stayed for the entire appointment, believe it or not) and it was serenely quite for several moments. The boys were reading, and Ethan was looking all around the office and occasionally babbling at me. I then heard something, and turned around to see 3 nurses, who had apparently watched this whole interchange with my boys, looking through the door and into the room.

"Boy, you've got your hands full!" (That's for you, MckMama) "They are all just sooooooo good!" (Oh, yes.....they're just lovely like this all the time.....) "Hi, baby! (to Ethan) What's your name?" (Um....he's one--he doesn't talk....)

Etc., etc. like this for a couple more minutes.

Then, one of the nurses asks Colin his name, to which he responds: "Spidey-Man. And this (pointing to Cameron) is Buzz-Lightyear."

They all laugh, of course. Ha ha ha. All of them laughing, except for me. I was the one grimacing in excruciating pain in the 'patient chair'.

So, the doctor comes in and it is quickly determined that I have a condition called dry socket. He gets to work on his little table mixing up some sort of foul-smelling concoction (while I am thinking--He's not going to put that nasty smelling stuff in my mouth, is he?)

The little chair that the boys were in by this time had become uncomfortable for them--too small for two bottoms--so Colin had (with my permission) moved to the floor. All three boys were still amazingly quiet.

The doctor then turns toward me; steps on Colin; almost trips; recovers; then apologizes to Colin, who says, "Sure--it's okay!" with a smile on his face. Whew. Disaster averted. The doctor composes himself, then proceeds to reassure me that this disgusting, awful-tasting gauze he is shoving into the gigantic holes-where-my-teeth-used-to-be will be my cure all.

Ethan just sits there....watching in amazement. Not a peep out of him that whole time.

I traded one horrible taste for another, but the pain has slowly been subsiding over the afternoon.

The boys, who were for all intensive purposes, complete and total ANGELS in the doctor's office, were treated to Popsicles when they got home; Mommy was treated to a Vicodin; and all was much better in the Merritt world.

(And I am not even going to say that now, I think I actually MAY be over the hump.)