For a short while, they were not able to chew. Preservative-filled favorites like Oreo cookies, Lucky Charms and Cheeots were reluctantly traded in for geriatric delights like chocolate pudding, cinnamon oatmeal and flavored jello infused with unidentifiable fruit.
Already, the dietary demands dictated by adult braces eradicates any food that makes a crunching sound for yours truly, leaving me with items that can be only “gummed” and then swallowed for digestion.
Even though Chase and Chandler both unwillingly participate in the joys of all things orthodontic, they both have managed to continue eating the foods strictly prohibited by Dr.V and his ever-watchful staff. Successfully, my children bite into forbidden favorites like Doritos and Cheese Nips, maneuvering each morsel around the metal like the moms who manically wheel grocery carts around store corners when late for carpool.
I am not nearly as brave. The idea of snapping off a bracket in my mouth or causing a wire to dangle in the most unsightly of manners is enough to keep me away from the chip basket in the pantry and the waiting room at the orthodontist’s office overflowing with snickering adolescents.
This week, however, the nutritional tables have turned on two of our children. Chandler, whose entire oral cavity is encased with expanders on the top and the bottom of his mouth, as well as entrapped by an unfortunate contraption that reminds me of Silence With The Lambs, lost the final two baby teeth of the incisor family.
(Because he has become an “old pro” when it comes to losing teeth, Chandler independently wrapped up his little bundle of calcium and phosphorus in a paper towel, and then secured it safely in a ziploc bag. For most of the day, he carried his treasure around in his back pocket.
Somehow, the ziploc bag ended up next to our fireplace later that night. Unknowingly, my husband threw the bag into the blaze where we were all gathered. Stunned, three small children looked at my husband in horror, and the wailing began.
Chandler cried, my husband was heartbroken and the tooth fairies all over our land had a moment of silence.
It was not one of the finer moments in our household.)
Mary Mac was the next child to report two of her teeth missing. One fell out while she slept – she must have been dreaming about nachos – and the other at school.
Because it was a new feeling for her, Mary Mac maintained that eating could not occur. For at least one meal, she refused to chew, stating dramatically, “It huurrrrttttss. And if I eat, all of my other teeth are going to come out too!”
Clearly, we are a family with numerous dental issues.
As expected, Chandler and Mary Mac both overcame their tooth deficiencies and managed to heroically re-learn the art of consuming a package of Oreos in its entirety.
I just watched them with bitterness, and a little bit of longing, as I gummed yet another spoonful of Jello filled with sad, little pieces of fruit.