Memories Tuesday

I had a wisdom tooth pulled yesterday, my first. It was burrowing under my back molar and had to go -- the dentist was confident he could pull it in the office, so that I could avoid going to the hospital here in Breda. I've already had two traumatic experiences there, and don't need a third just before I move.

It took about an hour, and he didn't really pull it -- he ground it down and sawed off pieces and had to leave the office twice in frustration, because it just wouldn't come OUT. The last time he came back he dug around for what seemed like forever, and then POP it was done. There was nothing to show, because it was all in little pieces and had mostly been sucked up by that little vacuum thingy the assistant was wielding. I didn't mind, I wouldn't have looked anyway.

I slept poorly and didn't feel so great when I woke up this morning, but went into work anyway -- I'd tweaked the daycare schedule so many times in the last week, I just couldn't bear to call and ask if I could change it again. Work was okay, I got out of my telephone shift (have to do an extra on Friday) because talking, I sounded like I'd been drinking since Sunday -- and after work I went into town to pick up things for Mirthe's birthday. As the afternoon wore on my jaw turned a soft blue and the swelling went down a little. At 3:30 I had a check up at the dentist, to see how it was doing, and everything was okay. I managed to eat some dinner with the girls and put them to bed early, although I think I can still hear them singing once in a while. Since my parents have been here (they're gone for a few days, BTW) we've moved their beds into our bedroom and it's been lovely, just like when they were little babies, those first weeks. When I wake up at night I'm not in a panic, thinking, do I hear one of them? I just look over at them and see them sleeping, listen to them breathing. And then slowly fall back into my own dream.