Dental Rumination

Went to the dentist this morning and was advised to have my wisdom tooth extracted. Decided to do it on the spot before return of the terrible toothache that felt like radiation of my left mouth, so bad I couldn't tell where the pain originated.

It's interesting that every time I'm subjected to the tyranny of dental equipment, I'd be thinking to myself: "You gave birth to your two kids without epidural - surely this is nothing!"

Then I would be wondering how Calder can take such assault to his sensitive nerves. And I'd imagine myself taking the pain on his behalf: "Ok, this is for you, Calder!" (I never have to worry about Ethel because she is stoic - amazingly brave since small - when it comes to dentistry.)

Of course, there'd be lots of prayers going on in my head as well: "Oh Lord, let me not be afraid. Give me peace. Let the dentist do just the right thing and not injure other parts of my mouth. Let Calder not have to suffer such pains...."

Well, that's how I got through my dental treatment, every time.

When Calder came back from school, I showed him my extracted tooth (already cleaned with vinegar).

"What is this, Calder?"

"Walnut."

Reward

Yesterday, a doting uncle bought Ethel her favourite jackfruit, so when the kids (P5 Ethel & her P4 cousin who's now in my care) finished their assigned work, I took out the jackfruit from the fridge and announced it's their reward.

"I don't like jackfruit; give me another reward," said the cousin. Ethel and Calder ate the jackfruit. Then I took out a pack of minty M&Ms that a friend gave me. "I don't eat minty M&Ms; give me another reward," said the cousin. Calder and Ethel savoured the M&Ms. I asked the cousin if he wanted to eat hash brown and he said yes. When the hash browns were ready from the air-fryer, I announced, "So here's your reward!" Cousin replied, "How is it a reward when everybody gets it?" "But I offered the jackfruit to everyone too," I reasoned. Cousin exclaimed, "Even those who didn't work for it!" Oh, so he was pointing to Calder. There was one hash brown left and since Calder was the biggest eater of us all, I automatically gave it to him. "Why does he get to have 2 pieces?" questioned the cousin. "Because he might get hungry," I explained, "Do you want another one? I can do another one for you." "Nope." But when he was out of the kitchen, I heard him chanting to himself, "Give me my reward, give me my reward."

After the cousin had left, I discussed this with Ethel and was astonished when she told me she used to feel the same way - why Calder gets the same reward when he didn't work for it. I told her maybe Calder's reward is for sitting nicely by himself when I was busy with her studies. Maybe he is being rewarded for not throwing a tantrum over being neglected.

Truth is: I cannot imagine not giving Calder what I openly give his sister. He wouldn't understand why. He would just feel sad, I think, for not being loved the same way.

"Should I be rewarded for sitting nicely?" ventured Ethel. I figured, "Different people gets rewarded for different things, and these are things that are more difficult for them. Actually, it's not that Calder doesn't want to do these things. It's that he cannot do them." "Yah, I thought so too," said Ethel, "That's why I never complain."

At bedtime, Ethel prayed that Calder wouldn't feel neglected. Time stood still for me then. Oh, blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God (Mathew 5: 8).