bad bad bad

Olivia had toothache last night, and once before a week or so ago.


I hadn't got round to bringing her for her first check up yet - she's 5 and a half...


She has an absessed tooth, and another small cavity needing filling.


My options are extraction under general anaesthetic in James' or IF I can get a place with the paediatric dentist quickly enough, then she can get a cap on it - it's going to cst quite a lot.



The worst thing about this is, my own part in it. I kept her sugar free til she was nearly two, but then as soon as I said she could have a bit, the flood gates opened. Her grandmother plies her with biscuits, cake and ice cream at every opportunity. Jellies and mints and all sorts of things I would never have let her have. And now that Bodhi is there too, he gets it all. 'Oh is he not allowed have that?' as she hands it to him.

Her father buys her packets of sweets at the shop, sweet drinks, jelly beans and bars after the pool.


And I'm the worst, because I've let her have all sorts this year, especially, even though I was well aware that this was what this would lead to. The other two seem oblivious.


Yesterday I found myself in the middle of the realisation that if I'd really understood the weight of the responsiblity of parenthood, I wouldn't have done it.


Axel earns the money to pay the mortgage at the moment, but the decisions and the carrying out of anything to do with health and behavior and emotion seem to lie on me. And the blame for things not working out so well.


Getting it wrong, trying to make right decisions, being the one who is responsible for their health and adjustment, when they won't eat anything, won't wear warm clothes, want nothing but sweets, have constant stomach pains, scream all the time, watch television all the time... I don't know Before I had children I think I had a vision of myself dealing with all that better, of knowing what to do, of finding good ways to deal with it, of managing it all. But the reality isn't so like that, it's just hard, and scary, and guilt ridden. Sure there's good bits too. I was shocked at my own little thought, I've never had it before. But this week, yes, if I could do it all again, I don't think I would. Not that there's any purpose to that thought. I just surprised me.

And I can't really put into words how I feel about the absess. It's pretty much a manifestation of lack of care, isn't it?