Image Credit (here)
For the most part, all seems to be going well. The mini things that have come up, I’ve handled without too much fuss, like walking on a treadmill.
This latest one though—I don’t even have steam coming out of my ears. It just makes me tired.
So…I took the girls to the dentist this past Monday, since they were both off school. In the waiting room, DD2 told me that when she "takes too long to brush her teeth, daddy says, f*ck! hurry up" and "gets mad at me." I responded that wasn't a good word, and I was sorry daddy got mad at her. And brushing her teeth was important and I was glad she was brushing her teeth. She seemed upset about dad getting mad at her, and just cuddled up, until it was her turn to go into the dentist.
Afterwards, Dr. Y said she has at least 7 cavities, and we're now booked with a periodontist. I don't even know how to broach this with the XE (phonetic for Exie). Later that night, when the girls were brushing their teeth, I reminded them to be careful brushing (DD1's back teeth had a lot of plaque, but luckily no cavities), and DD2 was careful and brushed really good--they both were tickled about their new toothbrushes.
Anyway, DD2 told me the story again, she said, mommy, you know when daddy says f*ck, hurry up? and I was like, yeah? (and trying not to react to the f*ck), and she said, i think it's because he wants me to watch cartoons and not miss out.
So I just responded--gosh, DD2, i'm sorry about that. Brushing your teeth is really important. She cuddled up to me again during book time and went to bed.
I've had a couple of days to think about this (girls are with XE through tomorrow, due to spring break).
The periodontist couldn't get us in until next month, so there's no hurry, and I don't want to incite anything with XE while the girls are there, (especially since DD1's been invited to sleepovers and girl scout events during his time, a lot of back and forth between him and the GS leader, it's all finally been worked out--actually DD1 has been very assertive lately, holding him accountable about getting back to her friends’ parents about things, go DD1!)
So…I’ve approached him with an email basically quoting the dentist’s recommendations, leaving the ‘f*c’k out of it. The play therapist advised that the girls are learning important life lessons—that they can tell me things without having things blow up in their faces, and the important thing is at least the girls know it’s wrong to say f*ck, don’t say it themselves, and that they feel like they can trust me with their worries and concerns. O.k., got it. Hit send and don’t worry.
But the part in me—the part that still is healing—is shrinking a bit, anticipating a nasty response accusing me that somehow the cavities are all my fault. I know I shouldn’t do this kind of thinking, to not make up what’s not in front of me, but I guess it takes time for these old wounds to heal. And you know what? Even if he does, I need to know it doesn’t matter. I’m no longer responsible for his thinking, anger, accusations. My head knows that. My heart mostly does. Except that tiny piece that feels like crying. Dammit, I’ve come so far, but still have miles to go before I sleep. Ah well.
I need a glass of wine. Which is kind of good, because I have a happy hour planned with two respected colleagues of mine…so I think I’ll go enjoy that. Because f*ck it, might as well! Ha.