I'm pretty sure Geneva has a cavity. I'm barely holding back the panic and feelings of failure. I'm beating myself up for not being more diligent about getting her teeth brushed, for not getting her a dental appointment until her 4th birthday. I'm terrified of what they're going to tell us. Ugh. This is not one of the things you're supposed to drop the ball on, Natalie. WTF.
(deep breath, 1, 2, 3, 4...)
It is what it is. I can't change what is. We can brush our teeth twice a day like it's our prayers and we've suddenly converted to the religion of Enamel and we're very devout. On the up side, I think Cora's teeth are okay...one out of two ain't bad? ...heh... heh... Ugh.
Cora had a bad stomach bug over the weekend, and is only now finally back to normal (5 days later). They bring home every single thing that rolls through that daycare, I swear it, and we all take turns being the sick one.
....and then, just now, Cora woke up grabbing her ear and saying "owwie owwie".
This has been the sick year. We're almost at a year since they switched to daycare centers, which is when the funk began. Surely by some cosmic design this means that magically at a year they will have developed an immunity to all of the crud, or at least built up enough of a tolerance that Jimi and I won't have to take turns taking off work every week.