Conversations with Hank

An Accidental Parenting Blog Chronicling a family of four living in the north of Portugal: A Midwestern American Artist, a Portuguese Scientist, an eight year old and a one year old.

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(walking home from pre-school with our friend, Caitlin)

Molly: O meu João (my João) can jump off this step. (Molly jumps off the step)

Me: Oofta!

Molly O meu João (my João) is not gonna believe this! Did you see me do that?!

Caitlin: Is João your friend at school?

Molly: O meu João (my João) is my best friend. O meu João (my João) can climb up this fence then race me then jump up into the sky!

Me: Whoa!

Molly: Yah! (climbing up on to a large granite bench and jumping fearlessly off) O meu João (my João) can jump down like that.

Me: So can you! Well done.

Molly: O meu João (my João) jumps so high! (dashing up a neighbor building’s front steps) O meu João (my João) is not gonna believe I can do this. Watch me mama, watch me I’m brave. (jumps down two steps that walks the last step like a light rope walker)

Me: I bet you have fun playing with him.

Molly: He’s my number one babe.

Caitlin: (instant laughter)

Me: (coughs)

Molly: Watch this! (skirting a ledge of marble outside a dry cleaners)

Me: (to Caitlin) Did she say João was her…? Wait what?

Caitlin: She said either babe or bae.

Me: I don’t even know what bae is!

Caitlin: Bae is João that’s what bae is.

Molly: (running ahead, declaring for all to hear) O meu João (my João) is my number one babe!

Me: (watching her go, curls bouncing) She said babe.

Caitlin: She sure did.

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Me: (after four days of being sick while taking care of a sick toddler, settle down deep into a restorative bubble bath, cracking open the spine of a new book)

Molly: (knocking at the bathroom door)

Me: (deep cleansing breath)

Molly: (knocking at the bathroom door)

Me: Amália Sofia, there are two other members of this household available to assist you.  Mama is having some alone time.

Molly:

Me:

Molly: (knocking at the bathroom door)

Me: (ready to flip out when…)

Molly: (in a tiny voice) Do you want to build a snowman? Come on let’s go and plaaaaaaay. I never see you anymore, come out the door, it’s mumble mumble heeeeeeeyyyyyy! We used to be best buddies, but now we not, I wish you would tell me why! Do you want to build a snow man? (pause) It doesn’t have to be a snow man.

Me: (immensely proud but knowing I have a part to play) Go away, Anna!

Molly: Ooookay, bye.

Me:

Molly:

Me:

Molly: Good job, mama!

Me: Bravo, Amália.

Molly: (runs off towards the next adventure)

Me: (sinks deeper into my bath, my book and the grin on my face)

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Me: Amália Sofia Hanford Pereira!

Molly: (spooked, knowing the sound of her full name means she is in trouble) NOTHING!

Me: Nothing! That’s right, nothing. You have absolutely nothing on your feet.

Molly: (looks down at her feet)

Me: Where are your monster slippers?

Molly: I don’t need them.

Me: Excuse me? It is now cold, my only darling daughter, and you are sick.  You get something on your feet right now.

Molly: I don’t need shoes.

Me: Come again?

Molly: (stomps her foot)

Me: Does that foot get you anything in life?

Molly: I AM QUEEN ELSA OF ARENDELLE! I have the power of snow and ice. THE COLD NEVER BOTHER ME ANYWAY! Harrumph!

Me: And I am He-Man, Master of the Universe and By the Power of Greyskull I will not take you to the ER with pneumonia so get something on your feet, Queen Elsa. Já (quick).

Molly: (full body eye roll) Fine.

Me: And for your information, Queen Elsa always wears shoes. Ask me how I know this;(mumbling) making me watch Frozen 1,684,236 times.

Molly: (now wearing slippers, shuffles off with her royal nose in the air)

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Molly: (walks into the living room with an empty water glass having just woken up with sudden onset laryngitis, squeak-whispering) Mama, I want some water, please. No juice.  I want some juice, please.

Me: Amália Sofia! Did you swallow a frog yesterday?

Molly: (eyes wide, takes a heartbeat to decide, low energy whisper screams) Yes.

Me: You did, indeed! How did that frog get in there?

Molly: (thinking rather loudly)

Me: (fetching her some water)

Molly:

Me:

Molly: (whispers) It was the wind.

Me: It was?

Molly: (nodding, whispering) At school. It was the wind.

Me: And I bet you were laughing.

Molly: (excited whispers) I was laughing and laughing and then a frog went in my throat.

Me: That happens sometimes and now there is no room for your voice!

Molly: (whispers) Yes, there is only a frog, no voice, but he is nice. I can share.

Me: That is kind of you, Amália.

Molly: (nodding into her water glass)

Epilogue: After two days residence Molly woke up this morning and declared with the power of her full voice that her frog hopped out and moved away. Bye, Frog!

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Me: TAH-DAAAAHHH!

Molly: Hurray! (clapping)

Hank: I can’t believe we are finally getting to try this. I have watched so many review vlogs on American Food and this is always included.

Me: I present to you, my darling chickens, my childhood: Kraft Mac and Cheese.

Molly: YUM! On my Teeny-Tiny plate, please. On my teeny-tiny plate, mama. I love massa (pasta).

Hank: (suspect)

Molly: (swan dives right in) Yummmmy.

Hank: (sampling delicately) Um…

Molly: It’s YUMMMY, Mommy!

Hank: Can I add pepper? Is it rude to say this doesn’t have a ton of flavor?

Me: Give it a good stir and pepper is a great idea.

Hank: (mixing, dashing, mixing)

Molly: More please, mama. More please on my teeny-tiny plate.

Me: Molly is putting the Americana (American) in Luso-Americana (Portuguese American)!

Hank: (with a face like something smells bad) What is this stuff made of?

Me: Cheese, obvi.

Hank: But milk is white. Why is this orange? What cheese is orange? Why is this a thing?

Me: That is possibly the most European thing you have ever said to me. We shall google.

Molly: More please. More maggeronni, please.

Hank: Would it be rude to say I didn’t like this? I don’t like this. The pepper helped, but I don’t like this.

Me: It wouldn’t be rude. This is what happens when you are raised on homemade macaroni and cheese. It doesn’t make you any less patriotic, Hank.

Hank: I love root beer and barbecue and your macaroni and cheese, but yah, I don’t like this. I appreciate Tricia and Karen (family friends visiting from the US) bringing us this to try. I just…

Molly: More, please. I like it! Maggeronni is yummy. I eat it, mano (brother). You not rude. I eat it.

Hank: Thank you, mana (sister).

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Molly: (sitting at the café, legs dangling a foot and a half off the ground, boot dripping wet creating a puddle on the floor)

Me: What would you like to have, my love?

Molly: (fidgeting) Um… chocolate cake with cream annnnnndddduuuuummmmm fizzy water.

Me:

Molly:

Me:

Molly: Please.

Me: That’s better.

Molly: Pleases and thank yous.

Me: That’s best. (place our order)

Molly: Mama, I want to take my boots off.

Me: No can do, babe.

Molly: But they’re wet.

Me: (giggling) Trust me, I know!

Molly: My socks are wet, too. I want to take off my socks, too.

Me: Only when we get home. That was the puddle jumping deal.

Molly: Harrumph.

Me: The puddle jumping deal was you’d have to walk home in your wet boots; no complaints.

Molly: (scrunched face)

Me: Wet socks and wet boots are a consequence of puddle jumping.

Molly: I don’t like wet boots.

Me: Word.

Molly: (pointer finger in the air, blinking expertly) AND I do NOT like wet socks. (nodding at the legitimacy of her proclamation)

Me: Understood, but do you like jumping in puddles?

Molly: (shoulders hunched, mischievous grin) Yeeeeees.

Me: Then  you must ask yourself, here and now, once and for all: are wet boots and wet socks a worthy sacrifice?

Molly: (chocolate cake with cream placed in front of her) YES!

Me: Olha, o que tu diz para a menina (Hey, what do you say to this young lady)?

Molly: (mouth full) Pleases and thank yous.

Me: Amália Sofia?

Molly: (swallows, grins at the waitress) Obrigada (thank you)!

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Disclaimer: We all know these buckeyes/conkers/horse chestnuts are not eatable, but Molly loves harvesting them and we keep them in our closets to repel bugs.

Molly: (in full pterodactyl mode) I don’t want to get dressed!

Me: Noted, but you would be cold if you went to school just in your pajamas.

Molly: No, I take a blanket to school.

Me: But what would you do when you needed your hands and arms?  Before the popularity of the cardigan sweater in the early 1900’s woman would struggle to stay warm under small shoulder blankets they called, “shawls.”

Molly: Harrumph.

Me: I think it is best to get dressed and looooooook this shirt has a stegosaurus on it. He has spikes. He’s spiky.

Molly: He is spiky like castanhas (chestnuts)? The green castanhas (chestnuts) part was spiky. I picked it up and said, “ouch!”

Me: Same evolutionary principal that leads to the buckeye (horse chestnut) and chestnut husks having spikes applies to the stegosaurus; it is much harder to eat something spiky than it is to eat something soft.

Molly: Castanhas (chestnuts) are like stegosaurus?

Me: Yup.

Molly: Hard to eat?

Me: Harder, but worth it. Castanhas (chestnuts) are delicious. I imagine much like the stegosaurus.

Molly: (patting her belly) I not hard to eat. I soft.

Me: Yes, but you’re brave and smart.  You can use your intelligence like spikes.

Molly: My brain is spiky?

Me: (nodding)

Molly: Mama, I don’t’ want to get dressed. My brain is tooooo spiky. My clothes won’t fit. Toooo spiky.

Me: (deep sigh)

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Hank: (bursting into the kitchen) MOM!

Me: Son!

Hank: I was just watching this YouTube video on common medical myths and did you know that gum digests like everything else in your stomach?

Me:

Hank: Like, gum doesn’t even take more time than normal food to digest!

Me:

Hank: Isn’t that crazy! Like, you totally didn’t know that.

Me: Um… yah. So, confession time!

Hank: No!

Me: Yah, so like I totally did always know that.

Hank: NO!

Me: Yah, so that is a common urban legend that parents tell kids so that they never get into the habit of swallowing gum. (bracing myself for impact)

Hank: (aghast) How dare you.

Me: Sorry?

Hank: Now, I don’t even want to tell you about how cracking your knuckles doesn’t lead to arthritis.

Me: Well, I…

Hank: Nope, I’m done.  You can’t know everything. Gotta go. Love you, bye.

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Molly watching our friend Bryan’s “herping” video with her best friend, Billy the Boa.

Molly (hugging the life out of her new six-foot-long boa constrictor named, Billy)

Me: What is a snake scientist called?

Hank: Like Monty in A Series of Unfortunate Events?

Me: Exactly like him.

Pai: A Herpetologist.

Me: MaGoo, do you want to be a herpetologist when you grow up?

Molly: Nope.

Me: Are you sure?

Molly: Nope. Nope. Nope.

Hank: But then you get to be with snakes all day long!

Me: And you love snakes.

Molly: I lub snakes and snake skeletons.

Hank: Then you want to be a herpetologist.

Molly: (shaking her head) Nope, I want to be two.

Hank: But you’re three.

Molly: (shocked and offended) No, I’m NINE!

Hank: What?

Molly: (realizing it is always better to communicate with a calm, compassionate tone, reaches out and takes a hold of Hank’s hand) Mano (brother), I nine and I love you.

*****

Quick shout out to my pal, Bryan, whose been virtually taking our Molly on “Herping” adventures on his YouTube Channel, Yote Off Trail. Popover there, check them out and tell him Molly sent yah!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGZloWbmVV0&t=74s

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At my new job even the spools are art!

For the past 15 years, Hank and Molly’s Pai (dad) has sighed in surrender and said, “I am just so behind.” This is not an exaggeration. He has said this same phrase verbatim -every single day- at least once without fail.

Over the years I assumed it was just his lack of satisfaction for a job well done, because as a passionate research scientist there is always more to do, never enough hours in the day, always something new to discover and new data to analyze, but over the last few months I finally am able to empathize. Now, at the end of every day I sigh in surrender and say, “I am just so behind.”

Purely by accident I’ve stumbled into a career in tutus. A few short months ago I traded in all of my 10,000,001 freelance contracts for a 9-5pm in an energized, highly creative environment when I am, quite literally, drowning in tutus, stunning leotards and everything ballet and I couldn’t be happier… accept where is comes to my creative work.

I know I went MIA.  I apologize to those of you who were concerned it was health related. Don’t worry, I am as well as possible. I have thought of you all daily and have still been collecting conversations religiously, but I needed some space to be polite to myself while learning something new and finding my feet again.

It would be one thing if I was just a working mom trying hard to balance creative writing and tutu sales, homework help and three year old learning curves, copy writing and watering the garden, being a wife and managing school run, but as you know I am also living with two debilitating chronic illnesses and even though my new team fully understand, embrace and accommodate my poor health and disabilities I am still ultimately the one who has to budget my energy and activity levels evenly between family, career, myself and my creative pursuits.

Thank you for giving me the time I needed to adapt to my new normal, where there are never enough hours or health enough to accomplish everything I crave doing.  This blog quite literally kept me going through three of the most challenging years of my life and it isn’t my intention to abandon this project now, but with that said my consistency may not be what it once was. Taking that into consideration I urge you, if you don’t want to miss a single conversation click one or all of the following:

Follow Conversations with Hank on Facebook

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And last but certainly not least: Subscribe to this blog and every new conversation will arrive in your email inbox.

Thank you all for your kind understanding and support of this blog. I am humbled that you find joy and wisdom in the conversations I have with my children.

All the best from across the sea, ~Joy (a.k.a. Me)

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(sitting three deep on the sofa in our pajamas watching Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang)

Hank: (throwing his head back) ARGH! I have so much to do today!

Molly: (who does absolutely everything her big brother does these days throws her head back) ARGH!

Me: And what is it exactly that you have to do?  I thought you were done with your homework for the weekend.

Hank: I did, but…

Me: That but doesn’t sound convincing.

Hank: I didn’t lie. The things I have to do are personal: I want to finish my power point presentation about YouTube Tech Gear, I want to clean my room, I have to read over an hour today because I have fallen behind on my thirty minutes a day goal, I neeeed to start again on my bullet journal spread because yesterday just wasn’t my day and I have to recopy my notes from my notebook onto my Muji binder paper because I didn’t remember to take it to school last Friday and none of my regular paper fits into a Muji binder, only Muji paper.

Me: Well, as we have absolutely nothing to do today I wouldn’t stress yourself out.  There is plenty of time for all those thing.  Simply make yourself a to-do list and check tasks off one by one.

Hank: (in all his pre-teen glory) ARGH! Why do you always assume I am stressed out! I am not stressed out!

Me: Because of your our tone of voice and body language?

Hank: ARGH! NO! (gets up and storms off to his room)

Molly: (toddles, ungracefully off the sofa) ARGH! (collects all her many stuffed friends) ARGH! (huffing and stomping her feet)

Me: And where are you going?

Molly: I going zangado (angry) with mano (brother).

Me: Lovely, have a great time!

Molly: I love you. (smiling angelically) Thanks, mama. (pauses) ARGH! (adopting a grimace, stomps out of her room to pout with her brother in solidarity)

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(leaving the grocery store)

Molly: (desperate to practice her tight rope walking on the parking lot curb) PAPA! Papa, wait! PAPA!

Pai: (in a rush to leave)

Me: You pack the groceries. I will deal with our future circus performer.

Molly: Thanks, mama.

Me: Can you do it or do you need my hand?

Molly: (struggling to keep her balance) I can do it! (loses her balance) ARGH! I NO CAN DO IT, MAMA! (foot stomp)

Me: Would you like my hand?

Molly: (determined) Yes, I want to go there. (points to the very end of the parking lot where the curb turns at a right angle)

Me: Well, that is your problem, MaGoo.  In order for you to get all the way over there you have to be here now.

Molly: Now? Here?

Me: (holding her hand) You have to focus only on your steps now in order to keep your balance.  You cannot think that far ahead, that will only cause you to lose you focus, stumble and fall.  You have to be here now, with these steps, breath and focus on your feet.  Do the work of walking balanced here and that work will carry you to where you want to go in the end.

Molly: (holding my hand and balancing, putting one foot in front of the other) one foot, other foot, one foot, other foot.

Me: That’s the way.  Be here now. Focus.

Molly: One foot, other foot, one foot, other foot, one foot, other foot… I ALMOST THERE, MAMA! (excitedly loses focus and stumbles, grabs on to me tight) WHOA!

Me: (helping her find her balance, squeezing her hand) Don’t panic, stay calm and breathe. Don’t look ahead yet.  Be here now. You will only get there when it is time.  It takes every step to get you there, you can’t rush it, be here. Don’t get lost thinking you’re almost there and have no more work to do.  Almost is not enough.

Molly: One foot, other foot. I doing good, mama?

Me: You are doing well; focus, balance and breathe.

Molly: One foot, other foot, one foot, other foot, one foot (gasp) MAMA, I DID IT! I here. I here now.

Me: You are indeed.  Congratulations.

Molly: I here now. I good. Let’s do it again.

Me: Yes, let’s.

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Me: BEDTIME!

Molly: NO!

Me: ‘Fraid so

Molly: But I’m hung-ger-y!

Me: I don’t think you’re really hungry.  I think you’re stalling.

Hank: Are you sure you’re hungry and don’t just want to go to Hungary?

Me: Oh, I want to go to Hungary and sit at the edge of the Blue Danube, but what I am not sure about is if I want to do that in Buda or Pest.  I guess I can decide when I’m there.

Molly: Whhhhhhaaat?

Me: Hungry is a thing you are when your belly is empty and tells you to eat food and Hungary is also a place.

Molly: A place?

Hank: A place you can go!

Me: A place you can go where everyone is so hungry all the time they are called Hungarians.

Hank: Are you sure that is how it works?

Me: Have you ever had Hungarian Goulash?

Molly: Goooolash?

Hank: That isn’t a thing.

Me: It is indeed.  It is a thing like Feijoada is a thing and Chili is a thing only once you eat Hungarian Goulash you will never be satisfied by another meal ever again and will remain for the rest of your days hungry because it is that good.

Hank: Not true.

Me: The part about it being that good is true and don’t be fooled by American Imitation Goulash! The difference between the two is comparable to the difference between Crab and Imitation Crab, but I digress.

Hank: (to Molly) So do you want to go to Hungry, meet Hungarians and have goulash?

Molly: No, I want chocolate milk.

Me: Wise choice.

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Pai: Molly and I were just talking in the car about Avó Dalia (grandmother).

Me: Oh, I love her.

Pai: Me, too.

Molly: Me, too too. You know, mama, Avó Dalia (grandmother) scared of snakes and skeletons, but I not scared. I love them.

Me: And fantasmas (ghosts). Avó Dalia (grandmother) is also afraid of fantasmas.

Molly: Avó Dalia (grandmother) is scared of snakes and ghosts and skeletons, butInotscaredofthembutsheis (deep inhale) AND I no.

Me: Buuuuut you’re a little scared of bugs.

Molly: (pinching her fingers together and looking at me through her tiny unit of measure) Just a wittle bit.

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Reenactment of Molly eating a Chupa-Chupa (sucker) as played by the Tootsie-Pop owl.

Me: (walking through the front door after work)

Pai: (from the kitchen) Who’s home?

Molly: I dono.

Pai: Who were you just crying for?

Molly: Mommy!

Hank: (giving me the best hug ever) Hi mom, how was your day?

Me: (melting into his hug) Hi buddy, how was your day?

Hank: Good.

Molly: MOMMY! (crashing into Hank trying to get to me) Desculpa, mano (Sorry, brother).

Hank: (gives way for Molly to give me a hug, smiling as he walks away)

Molly: (hugs me with the force of a snow-plow) MOMMY!

Me: Ofta! Hello chicken!

Molly: Mommy, I crying.

Me: (inspecting the frozen tears on her face) I see the evidence of that, but why are you crying?

Molly: (complicated mumbling toddler explanation)

Pai: (stepping out of the kitchen, bringing delicious dinner smells along with him) Amália asked for a chupa-chupa (sucker) which she promptly chewed to nothing and by the time I turned around she was opening a second chupa (sucker) without asking then was rather upset when I took chupa (sucker) number two away from her.

Me: Goodness!

Molly: Papa took my chupa (sucker) away! It mine! I open it.

Me: (sitting on the floor to be at her level) I see, but did you ask permission?  Did you say, “Papa, I am all done with my chupa (sucker).  May I have another?  May I have a chupa (sucker) number two, please?”

Molly:

Pai: She did not.

Me: You don’t just get what you want because you want it, little one.  You have to ask first.  You have to ask your papa or I if you may do something or eat something. You have to ask for permission.

Molly: But I want it.

Me: And I totally understand.  I hear you.  I wish you could eat 10,000,000,000,684 chupas (suckers) but your tummy would be so sick and your teeth would suffer beyond repair!  Just because you want something doesn’t mean you get it, especially when it comes to candy and world peace.

Molly: (arms crossed, lip sticking out, pouting)

Me: Mollly, you always have to ask permission for things because you are a learning and growing, but also because you are a part of a team.  What do you think would happen if you just walked in the door with a pet elephant because the circus had no room for him just because you wanted him.

Molly: I want an elephant!

Me: I know, BUT do we have room for an elephant in this house?

Molly: (excited) Yes! Baby elephant, YES!

Me: But baby elephants GROW into big elephants.

Molly: Oh.

Me: And where would the elephant sleep?

Molly: WITH ME!

Me: But your bed would break and he’d steal all the blankets and we have no grass or hay or thorn bush for him to eat and his feet would crack out tile floors and we just don’t have room in our family for an elephant, SO you couldn’t bring one home, unless you had permission.  Chupas (suckers) are like elephants.  You always have to ask first.

Molly: My elephant… my elephant lives at Marta’s house.  She has grass and he lives with the leaves.  My elephant loves leaves.  He stay at Marta’s house.  I ask permitten.

Me: (confused)

Pai: Remember, mommy? Amália decided her TOY elephant should fly and he got lost in the bush at Marta’s house?

Me: Yes, gotcha.

Molly: My elephant no ask permitten! Can’t have chupas (suckers), my elephant lives at Marta’s house. My elephant ask permitten from Marta for Chupas, okay mommy? Okay. (toddles off)

Pai: Would it be fair to say that analogy failed?

Me: Utterly fair. Total fail. Alright (groaning off the floor). What’s for dinner?

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Buçaco Forest, Portugal. Photo by: Hank

Me: (on the sofa reading) Good morning, pal.

Hank: (Harrumph)

Me: How did you sleep?

Hank: You know how I slept.

Me: I meant after you crawled in bed with us?

Hank: Fine. I slept fine in your bed… where’s papa?

Me: He gave up and went and slept in your bed.

Hank: Oh.

Me: Speaking of papa… I have something important I want to say.

Hank:

Me: I don’t want to evict papa from his bed one more night.  If you are struggling with sleep, you may come and get me, and I will come to your room.  Our bed may appear big, but it is the perfect size for just he and I.

Hank: I’m sorry.

Me: I am sorry you’re having troubles sleeping in your new room.  You weren’t that way in the beginning; you were loving your new room.

Hank: It’s different now. I regret my decision to leave my sister’s room.  I miss her. I feel alone in my new room and then I get nervous.

Me: I am listening.

Hank: I don’t know… there are new sounds.  I can hear people on the street sometimes and it makes me feel like they are right there with me. I can hear the elevator and when it arrives on all the floors and clicking and ticking, the wind makes the windows rattle…

Me: All very new sounds.

Hank: And they all make me nervous and then I can’t sleep.

Me: I understand.

Hank: I wish I could just go back to my sister’s room.

Me: You can.

Hank: What?

Me: You can change your mind.

Hank: But…

Me: Did you know that uncle Andy moved to a whole new state, got a whole new job and lived in a whole new house and regretted the decision immediately.

Hank: When was this?

Me: A few years ago.

Hank: That is horrible.

Me: No, it wasn’t horrible, it was a problem with a solution.  He thought about it and then changed his mind and moved again.

Hank: And now he is happy and has a family.

Me: Exactly.

Hank: But Molly is sleeping in my bed and (beginning to panic)…

Me: I know that we gave Molly’s bed away, but we would have done that anyway around this time and there are always solutions.

Hank: Bunk beds?

Me: A sound investment, but all of the solutions involve money I didn’t think we’d be spending so we will need some time to budget and transition.

Hank: (relieved) That’s okay.

Me: Wonderful, let’s take a minute to map out a solution this afternoon, but whatever you do don’t tell you sister.

Hank: No.

Me: If you do then we will hear of nothing else until our idea is achieved or abandoned.

Hank: I feel better already, mom, and who knows maybe I will stop being nervous. Just knowing I can change my mind is making me feel much better. I don’t think I will need to come to your room tonight.

Me: I’m glad. We are highly intelligent people with options.  We can always come up with a solution if we stay calm and don’t panic.  The one thing I know for certain are the best plans are made over coffee and chocolate milk! (getting up to start our day off right)

Hank: Thanks, mom.

Me: Thank you for being honest and telling me what you need.

[conversationswithhank]

(getting on our coats)

Hank: Mom, I am beyond anticipation.

Me: Are you now nervous?

Hank: Very.

Me: All people fear the dentist. Everyone.  The dentist will not take it personally, unless you bite them.  Never bite your dentist.

Hank: That’s not what I am worried about.  They are all very nice.

Me: Then what are you worried about?

Hank: (pause) Will it hurt?

Me: Would you like me to lie to you or do you want to face the truth?

Hank:

Me: I need to know the level of preparation you can handle, because regardless you will still be having this procedure even if you cry, especially if you cry.

Hank: Mom, will it hurt?

Me: Yes.

Hank: (groan and buckle with a nervous giggle)

Me: They will entirely numb your upper lip, but that injection hurts, like a vaccine. It is a pinch and a burn and then they will be working in your mouth with bright lights and pressure for 30 minutes, but I promise you that you can handle it.

Hank:

Me: You survived mononucleosis. You have gotten IV’s. You have been sick for weeeeeeks at a time with high fevers and whole body pain.  This will be 30 uncomfortable and probably scary minutes of your life but it may save you years and years of painful braces.

Hank:

Me:

Hank:

Me:

Hank: 30 minutes is better than years.

Me: Yes and this will be the worst experience you will ever have at the dentist.  Every other visit will be like a spa day.  This is not typical.  Do not judge the dentist based on today.  Go in, be as brave as possible and know after 30 minutes you will never have to experience this again.

Hank: And I get to eat ice cream.

Me: I got two huge cartons just for you.  No one else.

Hank: But what if I need braces?

Me: Then I will get you braces.

Hank: But they are so expensive!

Me: And I will gladly pay any price for your smile! I love your smile! And besides you take care of yourself and I want to invest in that.  Most other 10 year olds need to be reminded to take care of their oral hygiene, but not you! Twice a day, every day and flossing without me saying a word!

Hank: I like to take care of myself.

Me: And I like to support that. So… are you ready?

Hank: No, but I am going anyway.

Me: Brave people are just as scared as a coward, they just do it anyway.

Hank: Will you hold my hand?

Me: I will hold your hand and won’t let go.

(Hank endured the cutting of his upper frenulum with only tears and minor wailing. I myself would not have done as well. Three hygienists were in the room to restrain him, but he sat still as a stone and everyone was beyond impressed with how he endured while they completed their work.  Hank has ten stitches and earned himself an extra carton of ice cream and a day off school.  It was not easy for him, but I held his hand the whole time which he said helped.)