Grinder

Today there is not enough coffee in all of Costa Rica and Columbia combined to meet my need. The day started with a little light reading and some serious thinking because the Genesis study kicked off yesterday. Realizing the time means dropping that to race off for cash to send to school so I can go with Evan's class on a field trip this week. Only to have a ridiculous discussion with the Boy about why I am going along with him to the Holocaust Museum while driving him to school. The end result was that he is just curious, but actually wants Mom along. There was no point to the line of questioning. Argh.
Middle child is staying home because she was in tears again last night over her mouth, and it seemed better to not awaken her this morning beyond poking her to see if she said "ouch". Hopefully, this emerging woman-child who has reverted to strictly child in her pain will be able to tolerate her discomfort with the help of rest and a constant stream of ibuprofen. If not, there will be more tears about which little can be done but coach her to relax and wait out the pain.

The return home from driving the Boy finds youngest daughter perched at the kitchen table with hair that would have been perfect were she auditioning for an 80's hair band, still wearing her jammies, and contemplating an unopened bag of breakfast cereal. She is unhappy because she wants to pour the cereal through a small hole in the box, but she cannot figure out how. Now seems the prudent time to empty 2/3 of the bag into a storage bin. Five minutes later she agrees not to attempt this feat and finally starts to eat her breakfast.

A stop to e-mail schools because one kid is staying home, and the little one will only be in class for half an hour before being picked up to go back to the dentist brings on some less-than-happy thoughts. Erin needs a crown because somehow the enamel on her molars did not form properly. (Huh? This is the moment when a mom can be thankful for the assorted developmental delays that mean we're unlikely to see the 12-year molars before she can drive.) If one was counting: that's three cleanings, one filling, a set of sealants, two supposedly minor oral surgical procedures, and now a crown between the three children in seven days.
No wonder I am grinding my teeth at night.