Funny

I took the kids to the dentist the other day. Natalia was mostly better and, in fact, is better still today. She's still stuffed up somewhat, but feeling almost all the way back to herself.

Anyway, we went to the dentist and it was a highly anticipated event. Since M's first visit 6 months ago, we have talked about the dentist and his hygienist nearly every day at brushing time. Marshall (dentist) and Katie (hygienist) are practically members of our family at this point, although unwitting ones. Thank goodness I thought to prepare Mateo that Katie might not be our hygienist this time, because, alas, there was a different woman there this time. Other than that brief road bump, the visit went very well. Mateo was goggle-eyed at the gear - sunglasses for his eyes, a bib for his chest, and an awesome chair that was like a movable bed. His teeth got a clean bill of health and he held still for the cleaning like a champ. Rock star!

On the spur of the moment after the appointment, they had space and so Talia also got her first cleaning. She had some staining on her teeth from her iron-rich vitamins and I wanted it off if possible. Let's just say that she's not as big a fan of the dentist as her brother is...yet! I'm sure our pro-dentist propaganda will rub off before too long, but it hasn't sunk in yet. She screamed bloody murder but did emerge with clean teeth. Let's hope next time goes better!

These next two things go in the kids-say-funny-things category:

1. I took Mateo to my grandma's house for dinner tonight. My sister is visiting and we all had a lovely time eating together (as well as spending time with Auntie E earlier in the day and yesterday). The way there takes us right past the hospital where Mateo was born. I pointed it out to him and we had the following little chat. It's not quite verbatim but pretty close:

Mama: Look Mateo, right over there is the hospital where you were born!
Mateo: Why did you have to go to the hospital when I was a baby?
Mama: Well, it's good to have a doctor nearby when you're delivering a baby.
Mateo: Oh! I didn't know babies got delivered like on a delivery truck!
Mama: (Trying not to laugh) Well, they don't! You know that babies come out of their mommy or their mama's belly, right?
Mateo: Hmmm... That's kind of like a delivery truck!

Then, on the way home, the kid was tired but did not fall asleep. We chatted most of the way about the other cars on the freeway and tunnels and such. We went over a big bridge and Mateo noted that everything below us was part of Oregon. We've been talking a lot about how we live in the city of Portland, in the state of Oregon, and in the country of the United States of America. I remember being really confused about all that as a kid, so I've been trying to explain it when it comes up. He actually did identify our city, state and country correctly by the end of this little chat. That got me into explaining how our country is called the United States of America because it is a group of states that all decided to join together. Digging myself into a deeper hole, I attempted to define what a country is and that got me onto the subject of the President.

Mama: ...so, there are a bunch of states, like the state of Washington and the state of Oregon and the state of California (the ones he's been to) and they all got together and formed our country, which is the United States of America. Blah blah blah blah.... and so one thing about our country is that we have a president. You know how Barack Obama is our president?

Mateo: What does he do?

Mama: Well, we elected him to be our leader. His job is to decide things about our country and - (he then totally cut me off)

Mateo: He brings us presents!

Mama: ....

Mateo: That's why he's our present-dent!

Mama: Oh, really?

Mateo: Yes, and he will come to my birthday party and bring me presents!

And that was the end of that. Much more exciting than deciding about health care and arms negotiations and such! I told him I was sure that if Obama knew him at all, that he would love to bring presents to his party.