Lucky

Lately with all my pregnancy hormones raging around my body (and let's face it, having a good old Irish temper in my bones) I've become a bit of a grouch. But today, I just had a word with my myself.

You see I took Sproglet to the dentist for the first time. I hadn't been in quite a while and managed to secure a NHS dentist in the neighbouring town for us both - a bonus because under the NHS I don't pay, being preggers and Sproglet doesn't pay cos he is under 18. I always find driving somewhere new a tad stressful, what with my driving skills being well... in saying that they aint the best is being kind. Where to park? Do you have to pay? What if I don't have change? Blah blah...

I had to stop a total of 4 people to find A. Where the dentist was, B. Where to park, C. How to get in to said carpark and D. Whether or not you needed a ticket/had to pay. Awful complicated stuff when the clock is a ticking - appoitment being at 4pm on the dot. Sproglet seemed excited about the whole adventure - why would someone want to see his pearly whites he asked? They just look at your teeth, yes, but why?? The dentist was pretty and petite and chatty and super lovely. I told her I always relaxed more at smear tests when the nurse was full of chat and she took it well that I was comparing her to gynaecological experiences. I was a bit nervous: how to mind Sproglet whilst I was getting my mouth peered into and a bright light shone in my face? What if he refused to open his little gob?

Turns out I needed a filling - but not a big enough one to warrant a blissful feel nothing injection - 'you might feel a twinge' she warned. I did. Feel more than twinge. A nerve practically danced on the ceiling. Anyway, Sproglet was AMAZING. He sat like an angel on a blue stool while I was prodded and then jumped up on the dentist's chair as if it was a fun ride. When it went back he beamed. He opened his wee mouth as wide as he could and lay completely still as the dentist counted and checked his wee teeth. 'Perfect' she declared and he grinned from ear to ear. She complimented his brushing skills (and mine) and he hopped off the chair in under 2 mins. Then bless him, he held my hand as the nasty drill drilled away my decay and I squeezed it as hard as I could without scaring the child.

We left with springs in our steps. Just in time as the meter ran out on our one-hour-free ticket. I could have smothered him in kisses I was that proud of him. I felt completely blessed to have such a happy, good kid. I realised that so often on this blog I'm moaning about this and that, the angst and guilt of Motherhood, the stress, the relentlessness etc. But I'm just so lucky. I'm so lucky to have him in my life, making me appreciate the small stuff. I'm so lucky to be having another baby and for being so blessed by getting pregnant so quickly both times. I am truly lucky. In my book I've got a character who has unexplained infertility and whilst researching this I interviewed a few people and their stories really moved me - in their passion, courage and hope - against the odds. It just seemed so unfair why some folk have problems and others not. The life lottery...

Today reminded me it is a great gift to Mother this little boy - to watch him absorb the world, see new things, experience firsts all the time. I need to remember this when he won't eat his greens, or he wakes at 6:30 am or he has a meltdown because it isn't time for sweet treats at breakfast. I need to remember this when I have my meltdowns, when I feel lonely or bored or frustrated. I found a necklace at the bottom of my mirrored jewellery box at the weekend. A cheapie fake gold thing from Accessorize. It says in swirled loopy writing : Lucky. I've been wearing it every day since, because I am.