December 8, 2010

On Grillz and Growing Up

Yesterday, I took Big I to an orthodontist consultation. After dealing with "shark teeth" issues for years and finally having our conservative dentist hand us the referral card, we knew it was time. This post will not discuss how I feel that my nursing boobs failed me and how I was told that if I nursed for a year her teeth would go into perfect military formation and the chances of her needing braces would drop tremendously. Nope, we're not going to discuss that. We're also not going to discuss how robbed I feel about having the life literally sucked out of them and still having an orthodontic bill. Nope, not that either. That is for another post that will involve discussion about Victoria's Secret and plastic surgeons. Today, for once, it's not all about me. Now, back to our regularly scheduled program. . .

I don't know about you, but I went to the orthodontist when I was in the throes of junior high, which meant that my new braces were accompanied by bad perms, stirrup pants and neon colored clothes. It wasn't a pretty time in my life. It kind of felt like a Kid N Play video except I wasn't nearly that cool.

Today, they're starting orthodontic care earlier. Thanks to a slight cross-bite because some of her top teeth came in behind where they should (courtesy of those shark teeth that wouldn't let go), Big I has two options. Either we pull four baby teeth and then probably four permanent teeth (This is what happened to me when I was a kid) or we put braces on now for about a year, on both baby and permanent teeth to straighten things out and spread things out with the hopes that she'll be able to keep all her teeth, unlike me. (I had 13 teeth pulled when I was a kid!!!)

The braces option definitely seemed like the better choice. There's no guarantee but it's possible that putting them on now might prevent her from needing them when she's 12 or 13, AND even if she does need them then, she'll only have them on for about a year each time. That compares nicely to my brace face that lasted 2.5 years.

The braces of my day were simply metal and nothing else. At one point, they stuck some crazy piece of silver on my front two teeth that looked sort of like a McDonald's arch. That was all kinds of fun for my fragile junior high ego. Now, things are different. Big I will be able to choose from 32 different colors every 8-10 weeks to have placed on her front top four braces. She was absolutely miserable, listening to the plan, until she heard that part.

"Wow! How cool!" I told her. "You can do your swim team's colors for the winter and then switch for the summer."

"I just want blue," she said. I have apparently made another little blue monster. I would have done the same. Just look at my house shutters, furniture, countertops, closet, car and jewelry. I'm sort of obsessed with blue and now she is too. It was inevitable.

On the drive back to school, Big I was questioning me. "Will the other kids make fun of me? What should I say if they do?"

I told her it's all in how you approach it. "If you walk in there today and say 'I'm getting braces people! Woot! Woot! I'm the first of all y'all to get them and it's going to be awesome. I get to pick colors and coordinate my outfits with my braces. AND, I'll be the first one of us to have straight teeth. Holla!' then no one is going to make fun of you."

…Yes, I acknowledge, that sometimes when I am doing my best parenting I turn into Tyra Banks, attitude head nod and all.

I caught her smiling in the rearview mirror.

When she came home from school, she told me she walked into class and she owned it. Now all the kids are excited to see what she'll look like when she gets them in just a few weeks. If only my forever-29-year-old self could have told my junior high self the same thing, things would have been easier for me. Unlike what Big I will do, I spent my 2.5 years with my lips closed, concealing the brace face underneath. I swear the inside of my mouth took years to heal after all the little metal cuts from forcing my lips over top of those atrocities. I swear I moved into the big hair phase, just to take the focus off my mouth.

I have a feeling though, that she'll need a reminder about "owning" her new smile when she leaves the orthodontist in mid-January. I might just have to put on my best rapper outfit and sing her the Grillz song. (Here's the link in case you can't see it embedded. It's totally worth a watch. Oh yeah.)

I will totally do that for her, because good moms rap for their kids. They just do.