Before the pandemic, I used to go to the dentist at least once a year. I’d make an appointment for me and my kids and we’d go in all together when they were little and one after the other when they were a bit older and cringed at the idea of me being in there with them.
My dentist is a lovely Dutch man and my kids found it funny that he is Dutch like us in a country where nobody but the tourists speak our language usually.
He would ask them questions, make a joke, treat their teeth and when it was my turn he’d ask me questions, crack a joke and treat my teeth.
He was a star when my 3 year old needed to have his front milk tooth pulled (my little one was a little kamikaze who more often than not landed on his face) and complimented me on being a calm mom after I’d held my son’s hand during the entire ordeal while telling him a made up story of the little fox that became the go to story to calm things down.
I am not sure how it happened, but my kids grew up since the pandemic. Somehow they became teenagers and are now 16 and 18, drive themselves around on motorbikes (both) and cars (the oldest).
Somehow I’ve been putting off making that dentist appointment.
Somehow that appointment seems to want to make the statement that my kids are no longer kids.
Somehow I don’t want to battle with teenagers who do not want to go to the dentist with their mom (or just about anywhere really except the shops when they need my facial recognition to use my credit card).
Somehow I don’t want to make an appointment for them to go alone either.
Somehow I don’t want to go alone either.
Somehow this dentist appointment has turned into the realisation that I am no longer the lead character in their lives, the one who has all the answers, who can fix their problems, who tells a story to calm them down.
Somehow I realise that we usually miss those transitions, those times we did something for the last time, like holding their hand or telling them a story before bed.
It makes me emotional to write this. There have been many last times over the years. There have also been many first times and trust me, the first time they drive off on a motorbike makes a mother’s heart plunge to her feet when all they see is freedom.
So maybe the last trio visit to the dentist has passed. Maybe I need to go alone. Maybe I need to switch to a new dentist. Maybe I need to tell my boys: here’s the number, make an appointment for yourself and then let them not make that appointment (because they are forgetful teenagers after all).
I will bring it up at the dinner table.
Another thing that happens less and less, eating dinner together, as they start having their own agendas and meeting friends for burgers or frikandellen.
What happened for the last (or first) time in your life recently?
How did that make you feel?
Oh Miranda, I so get it…it’s such a vulnerable point in our lives as mothers (parents) when our kids turn into adults and start choosing their own paths. I read somewhere the other day, that it will never be the same again. It can’t be, we know that deep down. That’s what change is of course, but it’s okay to let it take a little while to sink in, to settle into different ways and new interactions.
Big hugs ❤️
Oh and I still ‘forced’ them all to go together this year….it may well have
been the last time too 🥺
Also…a few weeks ago I too saw my son drive off into the sunset on his motorcycle and felt my heart shudder as he blew caution into the wind and loved the feeling of utter freedom! 🏍️
I've been a runner all of my life -- well, since the age of eight. Cross country races in high school and college, 5K races with my son on Thanksgiving, Marathon training to get out of the house and head when my daughter was a wild teen-ager. Last fall my body decided I was done. I hung up my running shoes for good. I've had to find different ways to be healthy and acknowledge a new identity outside of "I am a runner."