On Friday Lily has her first appointment with the dentist, on the advice of my health visitor.
She actually still has no teeth, which I am hoping will not be a particular problem. The lack of teeth should surely be no hurdle to the average dental appointment, especially when the child in question will not be needing fillings or braces or suchlike and I am bound to ask all sorts of questions about what to do when they finally arrive which don’t actually need teeth to be there.
But I am feeling a little silly about it all. And checking her gums fourteen times a day at least.
I blame the health visitor. Bless ’em, they are keen. This one came round a week after a small head circumference to check if Lily’s head had grown much. I can’t say it did. She also referred Lily to an optician, even though neither I nor my husband had glasses before the age of seven, ‘just in case’ and referred me on to another health visitor to talk about routines. I know all about routines and am good at adjusting them regularly. I don’t like being phoned on holiday to make appointments for it. It ruins my routine (or lack of it).
So now, I am running around worried about Lily’s health and the times she feeds, sleeps and knocks towers over and whether I should let her watch the washing machine when she hasn’t finished all her first course when in fact I should be just getting on with the job.
And if I end up taking a baby with no teeth to the dentist, it isn’t on my head.
jam and giraffes 