My Crooked Teeth

My Crooked Teeth

Our oldest child, Allison, began her journey through Orthodontics today. Having just lost her last baby tooth last week, the timing of her appointment was perfect. She has been excited about this day for at least the last 6 months. Many an afternoon when she came home from school would I hear her desires for multi-colored braces or perhaps hot pink and black or maybe pink and blue. Today marked the first step of a 2-year long process that (I am sure) she will dutifully complete.

In our culture orthodonture is almost seen as a developmental milestone. The suburban moms compare when their children get braces in the same way potty training is discussed. “Well, my child’s orthodontist says she will need to be in a palate expander for at least four years and then of course braces. I guess we’ll have to take out a second mortgage! Ha!” I usually smile while covering my bottom teeth with my lower lip, and nod, and pretend to care, and hope that my crooked teeth are not revealed.

Ok, my teeth aren't this bad

When I was growing up our family’s cash flow was sporadic (at best). When extra money did present itself it was quickly funneled into musical instruments, recording equipment or ill-founded business ventures. There was never enough money for clothing or medical/dental care and there was especially no money for something as trivial as orthodontics. Once all of my adult teeth had emerged I would complain of my, “goofy looking” teeth. My mom would advise me to use my thumb to apply pressure to my misalignments and stated, “That’s all braces do anyway!” I would sit at my desk, in my room completing my lessons, and press on my top teeth. After a few months my mom proclaimed, “See it’s helping!”

My top teeth did not bother me as much as my bottoms. When I pointed this out to my father and begged for braces, he said, “Your lucky! Your top teeth are fine. Just don’t smile with your lower teeth. No one will know.” My mother quickly agreed and added, “Your teeth are not that crooked. Besides they add character and you can’t be that perfect because people will hate you. And anyway I never had braces. My mother fed me condensed milk when I was a baby and my teeth rotted out. That woman (her mother) didn’t give a shit about me! You’re lucky that I love you and tell you how beautiful you are. You shouldn’t care that much about your goddamn teeth. Stop being so vain!” Message received.

Throughout high school I envied those girls who got to play with their rubber bands and unconsciously drool when focusing on the chalkboard. I wanted to be picked up early for an Orthodontist appointment! I wanted to roll dental wax between my fingers! I wanted headgear! I wanted to talk funny once I got a retainer! I wanted straight teeth! My junior year a friend had to have her jaw wired shut. I was so jealous! She got really skinny and her teeth were straight! I told my mother about this girl’s temporary liquid diet plight and she said, “Aren’t you glad you never had to have braces? Your teeth are so nice because I nursed you. My mother never nursed me. She fed me condensed milk and…” It was a lost cause. I would have to wait until adulthood to fix my smile.

Funny things happen when you become an adult. All of the sudden priorities shift or at least should. My teeth fell to the bottom of my list of main concerns. House, car, preschool, and travel expenses have all been more urgent. Throughout the years I have had numerous comments about my teeth made to me by special needs adults and children. “Why you teeth like that?” and “Your teeth are folded.” I even had one child try to “fix” my teeth by grabbing ferociously inside my mouth. My profession dictates a lot of focus on mouths and those who are not cognitively or developmentally aware of the social custom of not negatively commenting on someone’s features often times are the only ones to speak truth.

I am so excited for Allison. Even though I firmly believe that the perception of braces as being a necessary developmental milestone is false, I would assert that it is a cultural rite of passage. I am beginning to feel that my teeth are a good metaphor for me: Strong, useful, in some areas patched, slightly askew, and interesting. Allison will have beautiful teeth but she will never know the joy of a child asking, “Why did your parents not get you braces?” I hope her character isn’t affected.

As a postscript I would like to thank Dr. Courtney Dunn, DDS for not only being a fantastic Orthodontist but also for giving me a blogging award. It is a recognition honor for small bloggers. You are supposed to give the award to your top 5 blogs. The problem is I only read four other than Courtney’s. So, I will try my best.

Here are the rules for the award/chain letter type thing

1.  Thank the person who nominated you – THANK YOU!

2.  Link back to the person who nominated you http://www.mommydds.com

3.  Copy and paste the award on your blog

4.  Present the award to 5 bloggers with less than 200 followers.

5.  Let them know they’ve been nominated by leaving a comment on their blog

Here are my top 4 (oops)

1.     http://rmberra1.blogspot.com I progressive, thinking Christian's perspective on social and political issues (might have more than 200 followers but I love it anyway)

2.     http://4peregrini.blogspot.com Another inclusive Christian but sometimes he talks about snakes and dragons! (might have more than 200 also, but I don't care)

3.     http://relationalrealities.com A super smart priest. You will love it! (probably has more than 200...you get the point)

4.     http://stmarycanon.blogspot.com All things Benedict.