The Teaching Mum

A light-hearted look at parenting through the eyes of a very busy English Teacher.

The secret calcium stealers and other injection related stories.


After every lesson observation you have as a teacher, the observer asks you: ‘So what do you think went well?’ I find this the most difficult question in the world as I just want to put my head on the desk and say ‘nothing.’  My Head of Department even brought me to tears once (not intentionally) when he asked me how I was liking my new role and what I thought I brought to the department.  I didn’t think I brought anything to the department; I just wanted to do a good job and not have to sell myself and share with anyone about how well I thought I was doing.  Give me a compliment and I tend to throw it back in your face. ‘Ooh I like your bag.’ ‘This? It’s about five years old and it was my mum’s first.’ I appreciate your compliment, I really do, I am just not very good at accepting them. So if asked what I like about myself (can I just add that I don’t dislike myself – there is no underlying psychotherapy needed here) my go to answer is: ‘My teeth. I like my teeth.’

Lo and behold though, my loveable little munchkins have unknowingly destroyed my teeth by needing my calcium to grow.  How very dare they! Today was Dentist and Doctor Day (I’ll just add though that it was nice to be able to go to an appointment during actual day time hours and not in a school holiday) and I was having my second ever filling. The first came a few months after my girl was born and the second, five months after the boy.  But, hey it was free; everyone’s a winner. Except the dentist that is and I think he took it out on my teeth.  Ten rounds with Mike Tyson anyone?
‘I’ll just take an X-Ray. Any chance you’re pregnant?’
I vigorously shook my head.
‘Do you want to be numbed?’
I vigorously nodded my head.. 
He began before it was properly numb.  Drilling away and humming, he stopped.
‘Hmmm, it’s bigger than I thought’
Hand still rammed in my mouth, he sent his nurse away to get something.
‘I wish I had some kind of mouth vice,’ he said. ‘That’s the dream.’
‘The nurse returned with something that, thank God, was not a vice.  
He scraped out the decay (nice) which I think, but can only think, he showed me as I thought I heard the word ‘look’ but my eyes remained closed and he eventually finished.  It was only then that I realised how weird and yet strangely cool it felt to to have a numb mouth (it definitely wasn’t numb when he started.) One side of my tongue felt massive!
During the journey home, I kept looking at my tongue in the mirror just to make sure that it wasn’t huge and I had the over whelming desire to bite it. Is that normal?  Obviously, I didn’t; I’m not a moron.  
I am just going to break there for a while as it’s 8.15pm and the boy is asleep. I want to try and watch an episode of Game of Thrones before my own early bedtime of 9pm. If this isn’t living then I don’t know what is. The other half can fast forward through the ads (he is Master of Controls) and I will be in bed dreaming of teaching something to Jon Snow (probably how not to lose the warmth from your head by wearing a hat and how it’s probably wise to stay away from silk pyjamas if you stay at Castle Black – see earlier ‘Primmy V’ post…) by ten past nine.
We had made it through the opening credits before hearing a yelp from upstairs.  My little dude had awoken from his slumber after at least fifteen minutes. I reluctantly went to retrieve him from his cot as I was determined to finish the cuppa I had just made. However as it turned out, he just needed to see a bit of boob before going to sleep – thankfully not mine.  He was mesmerised by the weird, but beautiful, red haired witchy fire lady’s boobies, the one who currently resides in Castle Black with Stannis. (Five series in and I know about six of the characters’ names) After her failed attempt to tempt Jon Snow, my boy, in my arms, turned away from the TV and dozed and here we are at night feed number one.
Right then, I was able to resist biting my own tongue but kept using it to feel my teeth that felt like they weren’t there anymore; that was a bit bizarre. I often have anxiety dreams where my teeth fall out so I had to keep checking the rear view mirror to make sure the dentist hadn’t removed all of them in the frustration at my receiving free treatment and him not having access to a vice. I eventually made it back to Grandma and Grandad’s house where the boy was happily spending sometime with two people who love him more than anything in the world. I took him home, fed him and left the house again.  This time the destination was the doctors’ surgery
Today (technically yesterday now) was my boy’s third and final injection day.  After sitting down with the nurse, she explained the procedure with me and told me that she recognised me.  I confirmed that she did indeed recognise me from a couple of weeks back when she had syringed my ears and could she excuse the fact that I was slurring my words as I had a numb mouth due to an excessively large filling. (Storm Models – if you’re reading this then I am waiting for your call…) She told me how to position my son and reached for the first needle.  This is why I often call my son a little dude; the needle went in, I looked away and he let out a cry, gave the death stare to the very lovely nurse and then stopped.  I turned him over for his final jab and as the needle went in, I swear he just made a ‘meh’ sound as if to say ‘is that all you’ve got love?’ and with that we left to meet a fellow mummy teacher friend whose son happened to be getting his third injections too. 
After the doctors and to celebrate the fact that both of our favourite boys had been little troopers, we treated them (us) to coffee, hot chocolate and cake at the local garden centre. However, just to remind us who the bosses were, we both ended up standing up in the cafe jiggling and rocking the boys to stop them crying; perhaps the trauma of the needles had set in.  We swiftly drunk up and left and if I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I heard a little cheer of rejoice from the dining OAPs who just wanted some peace and quiet amongst the garden hoes and wheelbarrows.
Outside, my friend and I exchanged our goodbyes and seeing as I was near my daughter’s nursery I went to collect her a bit earlier than normal.  Clambering through the nursery door with the car seat, I noticed that my girl was wearing a donkey costume (she had also worn it the day previous too) . .  No questions asked, she climbed out of it, retrieved her bag, shoes and coat; we said our goodbyes and left.  Awesome.   Back in the car.
‘I like the donkey outfit.  What have you done today?  Have you done anymore letters and sounds?’ I asked.
‘Yes, we’ve done letters today,’ came her sweet reply.
‘Please tell me that you did them in the donkey outfit.’ I said.
‘Yes.’ It was all I needed to hear to put a smile on my face.
The girl is ace!
We returned home and while we waited for Daddy to return, we played ‘monsters’, which was me chasing her on her very slow pink mini quad bike (a Daddy purchase) and had a sword fight with a foam sword from B&M Bargains fighting against a plastic Jake and the Neverland Pirates one. It was safe to say that I took a bit of a beating all while listening to Jake intermittently saying ‘Yo, ho ho.’
3.22am. Breaking off here as the night feed has come to an end.
Tea time ensued playtime with the other half virtually inhaling his food so he could take an irritated and tired baby from me.  He went off into the living room to walk around with the boy in a bid to fend off the crying before bath time. Then suddenly for only ten minutes, the metaphorical sh*t hit the fan. Happily, or so I thought, watching Ninjago on the iPad, the girl was chomping on salad and chicken nuggets. 
‘I want Fanta,’ she moaned.
‘Well, you have a lemonade,’ I replied.
‘When Daddy asked you what you wanted to drink, you ignored him. You will have to make do with lemonade.’
She then pushed the lemonade viciously towards me therefore spilling it onto the table and the half eaten cod on my plate.
I grabbed the iPad and switched it off. I know that she shouldn’t be watching it during dinner and family time but, without it she sometimes won’t eat and I want my daughter alive, healthy and well fed.
She screamed. She possesses a scream that cuts right through you. I imagine it’s what a dog whistle sounds like to our canine chums. Then she hit me.
‘iPad!’ She screamed through tears that had miraculously appeared in a millisecond.
I stood my ground. My partner stormed in with the baby and asked who had spilt the drink and the little madam had the audacity to say it was me. Where did she learn that skill? The ability to ‘grass’ and convincingly so. He made her sit on our naughty step (the bottom of the stairs) until she screamed sorry at me through floods of tears. I wanted to cuddle her and I wished that I had just given her the bloody Fanta but eventually she calmed and apologised in a voice that wasn’t exhausted by tears. We returned to the dinner table and she quietly asked for Fanta.  I grabbed her cup, went over to the kitchen cupboard, grabbed some orange cordial and poured it in with the lemonade. She never knew the difference. Yay. Small victory to me.
Bath time followed and all was forgiven and forgotten. I put my boy in his PJs and Grobag and started ‘operation feed to sleep’. In the other room, I could hear my daughter and Daddy happily chatting over a story and all was well with the world. I noticed then that I could finally feel my tongue and teeth again and a dull ache started in the side of my mouth. Also, at this point I didn’t realise that within the hour, the boy would be up watching Game of Thrones with Mummy and Daddy.  Cuppa, biscuit, Game of Thrones, a dull ache in my mouth and cuddles with the little dude – I have had worse Wednesday nights.
Finally finished at 8.19am the following morning!
Happy Thursday everyone and don’t forget to go out and vote!!

I need to get my priorities in order!

2 thoughts on “The secret calcium stealers and other injection related stories.

  1. There are a lot of boobs in game of thrones – perhaps you have discovered a whole new trick for getting kids to sleep! I'll try it next time my 3 year old won't sleep……hmmm on the other hand there is a lot of stuff in game of thrones which will probably keep her awake!


  2. Ha ha!! Definitely – imagine all the questions you would have to deflect. Thanks for your comment. x


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