Thursday 19 August 2010

On One Son Having His Teeth Out And The Other Breaking His Foot for my website  for my other website for the A Graceful Death exhibition, paintings from the end of life

On Teeth Out, Feet Breaking, And The Swallowing Of Orthodontic Fixtures On Teeth

All in one day, and more, so take the pasta off the hob, switch off your phones and I will tell you more.

Yesterday at about 6.30pm, in the middle of a football match, 13 Year Old Son had to stagger off the pitch.  Despite there being two teams playing, refs, linesmen, parents and coaches, no one saw what happened.  "Ouch" yelped Son.  "Ha ha get a grip" I replied. He lay down on the grass and pulled off his boot, and declared that he could not go back on and what is more, he couldn't walk.  13 Year Old Son is a good six foot tall now, and I admit I didn't think of his poor foot, I thought of my poor back as I imagined I would have to carry him to the car.  He is known to stick to his injury stories, all of which are true to him, and some of which I greet with the word "Poppycock!"

He stuck to his guns.  I lugged this large football player all the way round the pitch to the car, and smiled through the sweat running from my brow, at the kind parents, coaches, linesmen and players who all patted him on the back and said Never Mind Mate.  In my heart, I said He's Fibbing Mate.  But I got the child home.  He had a bath, some paracetamol and a gargantuan meal.  He Is Sorted, I thought in my smug Mummy way.  I had much to prepare for, as the Muppet was having two teeth out at 9 the following morning in order to have a year and a half's worth of thick steel plated braces fixed to his teeth as they have become Independent and are Growing As They Please in any direction that takes their fancy.  And some are still baby teeth, and are very happy thank you, and will not fall out for love nor money.  So the dentist has had to step in and apply force.  The Muppet, sensitive fellow, does not like this kind of thing at all.  He was of the opinion, by late last night, that his wonky mad escaping and independent teeth gave him character.  They added to his charm and kudos, and made him, possibly, irresistable.  I ignored all of it and went to bed.

Oh the poor creature.  He was in a sorry state of nerves this morning going in to the dentist.  And once he had asked her every question that was in his fevered head, the Dentist began.  I sat at the Muppets feet to hold his legs, to show him that his Mummy was there.  But the extraction was a fierce affair.  Instead of stroking his legs in a calm soothing way, I gripped them hard  and left finger marks on his skin.  Poor creature.  We were warned that the molar was going to be resistant and it was - the dentist used her biggest tools and I could see the sinews on her arms.  The chair rocked, the Muppet rocked, the Assistant Dentist rocked - we all rocked back and forth as the tooth was prised loose and pulled with huge force from his mouth.  Oh it looked like the pulling up and out, of a tree from the earth.  But after half an hour we were done and my bruised, swollen, blooded and furious son and I went home.  

Once home, it was time to wake 13 Year Old Son up and take him to the local hospital to have his orthodontic thing done now!  My boys have a stonking underbite and all their teeth stuff is done in our local hospital.  Hurah!  I cried to the Son no 2, Arise my boy and come and get those funny attachments they put on your teeth last week, off!  13 Year Old Son told me he had swallowed them.  Ha!  I continued, Then let us go and get some more put on!

This is where it gets tricky.  He really couldn't walk.  Really, he couldn't.  And there was a lump where there should not be a lump, on his foot. And it was swollen.  Perhaps, my conscience said, that is a bone making that lump.  And he had not slept because it hurt so much.  Ooops.  So after the jolly orthodontist attached some more Things to his teeth and did some more imprints of his jaw, we staggered to A & E round the corner.  And on the X Ray of his foot, was big bone snapped in two.  Oh the guilt.  I had not believed him and it was true he was in pain and he did need to be dragged to the car yesterday and everyone will think I am a Bad Mother for laughing at him.
Well then. The situation was thus:  Poor Muppet was lying down at home in pain and anguish, Poor 13 Year Old Son was vindicated and in a wheel chair, and Gorgeous Blonde Daughter was on her way home from Brighton for a Day of Fun in Bognor with her brothers.  Oh my Darling, I said to her on the phone, Fat chance, they are broken and disabled.  But come she did, and after a large meal for all of them, things started to get better.  Actually, the Muppet had spaghetti because he could suck in into his mouth and down into his tummy without having to chew it, as he has large holes, he says, at the back  where his teeth used to be.  He followed it with a tub of Haagen Daz. It was fascinating to watch.

Now, I am sitting in my lovely bed, with my laptop wondering at Life and All It Brings.  When the children were little, I did all this kind of thing.  Now, they are teenaged and still, I am taking them to and fro and making them feel better.  Today I felt I had toddlers again, gruff voiced six foot hairy bearded toddlers.  (Not including Daughter here).  

I still managed to work a bit though.  Very pleased with myself.  But now, as you can imagine, I am weary and glad to be up on my room.  The window is open, the wind is blowing, the Offspring are fed and Managing, and I am going to pretend I am asleep so that they don't ask me to do any more.  Gosh, I remember when this kind of day was normal.  Kiddies needing constant care and attention and me just Doing it.  Thank Goodness children grow up.  I loved them being little but I am glad they are more independent now.  Even though two of them are full of holes and temporarily broken.

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