D-Day

Friday was D-Day. Otherwise known as DENTAL surgery day for my 5 year old. I woke up with a terrible cold - sore throat, congestion and a horrific headache. Trying to keep my little one upstairs for cartoons (instead of downstairs near the food), I wished for a Stepford Mommy as a substitute. We took my little angel to the dentist under the guise of 'the dentist just wants to ensure that you are brushing' and he was hopping around like a rabbit until he saw the surgery room. Breathing the strawberry scented anesthesia, he quickly fell asleep but I was on pins and needles. The surgery went fine, but took longer than expected. When he woke up, the crying began and my heart broke. It was a dismal day outside and our moods matched. 5 metal caps and 3 fillings for my little angel and I felt like the guiltiest Mom in the world. Could I have made him brush more? Floss more? Eat less sugar? The dentist said that it was probably genetic, but nonetheless I felt responsible. To top it off, I was getting more sick by the hour and wanted to go home and immerse myself in bed.

On Saturday, I was sure that my head turned into a parade sized goo filled balloon and had chills and aches that only enhanced the giant head feeling. Umberto was having a hard time eating and realized that some of his teeth were silver and the crying began again. I always host Thanksgiving for our family, but had to hand-off to my sister-in-law because of my cold. I am sad, because I do love cooking a BIG dinner with all of my southern dishes - such as my sweet potatoes. And, my turkey is to die for! I will just tell you that the secret to a great turkey is to pack brown sugar all over it like a winter coat and wrap it in bacon. Oh well. I will get over it.

Today is Sunday and the boys and I are enjoying a quiet morning watching Penquins of Madagascar - which is absolute genius. I am high on cold drugs and on my third cup of coffee. It looks sunny day. I have stepped back from the edge. Life if good.