I have this stupid tooth, and it's giving me all kinds of grief and making my life difficult. I had two root canals in the last week and a half. One of them was easy peasy. The other one- not so much. I had to go to an endodontist, since this particular tooth has all kinds of crazy issues. When I got the x-ray, the dentist told me my root was disappearing, so I'd have to go to a specialist. A disappearing root? Specialist? Whatever could this mean? I went with the standard explanation I give myself with all mysterious aches and pains: I must be dying. Like any responsible person with a tooth that is slowly killing them, I waited until my Skittle consumption had me writhing in pain before I went to the aforementioned specialist.
Dude. That root canal was Ba.rooo.tal. It took two sessions of an hour each. I felt sick for two days after the first session. The second session was even worse. Oh the pain. Ohhhh. The pain. I've been chewing with my front teeth for 3 days, since I had a root canal on each side of my mouth, thus making my molars somewhat useless. Basically, they're dead to me.
I was a little over-zealous while eating dinner last night, and I let some of the food slip back by that tooth. CHOMP. I cried like a little baby. Waaaa! Waaaa!
This morning I was getting ready to walk out the door for church. I thought it would be prudent to get a piece of gum, since I generally have poo breath by the 3rd hour and have a calling that requires me to talk to people. I thought I'd give the gum a little test run. Chomp, chomp with the front teeth. Chomp, chomp with the good side. Then I did a little baby chomp on the gimpy side, and what to my surprise... a hunk of metal was withdrawn from my tooth. I mean, really, it was a test chomp. In fact, it wasn't even a chomp at all. It was a tap. I swear. Tap. Hunk of metal.
See, the crappy thing about teeth is that you have to have them to enjoy life fully. The other crappy thing about teeth is that I AM A FLOSSER, and this still happened. And, might I add, ow. So I'm feeling picked on, and I'm tired of going to the dentist and being tortured, and I just want my tooth to stop trying to kill me. That's all.
In exchange for this tooth to be fixed for good, I vow to ne'er eat Skittles again. Ne'er e'er. Especially the blendy kind, since those are actually quite tasty and keep you guessing. Melon? No, I taste berry. Wait, there's the melon again! So you see, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
I'm calling "The Specialist" first thing in the a.m. Don't worry, I'll keep you posted.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
24 hour camping EXTRAVAGANZA! Part 2
The canyon that never ends is that canyon that goes from Vernal to Flaming Gorge. I don't know how many miles it is, but there are about 10 switchbacks that you have to go super slow around so you don't drive off a cliff and die. Thus, it is slow going. As I mentioned before, I ate some Skittles early on in our journey which set off a cataclysmic event in my mouth, making me extra cranky. All of the kids were asleep by this point, but as we made turn after turn...after turn, I started to verbally abuse my poor husband. Things I remember saying:
"How much longer?" (Times 8, said meaner each time.)
"This is completely ridiculous."
"This is the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. Honestly THEE stupidest."
"I'm never going camping with you again."
"Are ya happy now?"
Midnight: We arrived at the campground, which incidentally, could have been a training ground for Al-Qaida because it is so remote. By the time we got the tent up and the kids settled, it was past 1 a.m. All night I listened to the air mattress make that wondrous "hiiisssssssssssss", as we got lower and lower to the ground. By the time the sun was up, our feet were in the air and our heads were on the ground.
7 am: When I exited the tent, I was greeted by Nils, saying in his best I'm-really-scared-of-you-voice, "Good morning, ex-wife."
10:30 am: Get swimming suits on, floaties blown up, and get ready to go play in the water. We took the rain fly off the tent because it was getting so hot.
11 am-2:30 pm: Frolic about in Flaming Gorge.
2:30 pm: Notice storm clouds heading our way. We decided to head back to camp before it started raining. The kids were all in their swimsuits, and Ava was diaperless because we're classy like that.
2:35 pm: The typhoon arrives. As we were driving back to camp, we were being pelted by ginormous raindrops coming fast and furious. We finally made it, and Nils and I jumped out of the van to throw the rain fly back on the tent. Because, you know, at that point it really made a difference. We surveyed the damage, which was about an inch of water inside the tent. Everything was soaked. It was the perfect way to end our camping extravaganza. We started to wring stuff out, but quickly realized there was no point, so Nils just rolled everything up into the already deflated air mattress and stuffed it in the back of the van.
3 pm: Nils looked at me and said, "All I wanted....was a fun family experience. That's really all I wanted." We left Flaming Gorge (a day early)- foreeeevvvvver. We realized a few minutes into our descent down eternal canyon that Ava still didn't have a diaper and was probably peeing all over her carseat. She got one on eventually.
8 pm: Home sweet home. We laid everything out on our front lawn to dry out. The great thing is that it didn't look white-trashy at all. It goes without saying that we had some laundry to do- and that's when the washing machine started to gush water out the bottom. Yeah, actually that was the perfect way to end our camping extravaganza.
*Nils redeemed himself by disassembling the washing machine, figuring out what was wrong, and fixing it for 37 bucks. We're still married, and I still love him. And I'm sorry for the mean things I said.
*I went to the dentist yesterday and I need two root canals. I had one of them today and will go back next week for the other one. Ow. Darn stinking Skittles.
*The kids thought the whole experience was just great.
*Nils wasn't really literally dying to go camping.
"How much longer?" (Times 8, said meaner each time.)
"This is completely ridiculous."
"This is the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. Honestly THEE stupidest."
"I'm never going camping with you again."
"Are ya happy now?"
Midnight: We arrived at the campground, which incidentally, could have been a training ground for Al-Qaida because it is so remote. By the time we got the tent up and the kids settled, it was past 1 a.m. All night I listened to the air mattress make that wondrous "hiiisssssssssssss", as we got lower and lower to the ground. By the time the sun was up, our feet were in the air and our heads were on the ground.
7 am: When I exited the tent, I was greeted by Nils, saying in his best I'm-really-scared-of-you-voice, "Good morning, ex-wife."
10:30 am: Get swimming suits on, floaties blown up, and get ready to go play in the water. We took the rain fly off the tent because it was getting so hot.
11 am-2:30 pm: Frolic about in Flaming Gorge.
2:30 pm: Notice storm clouds heading our way. We decided to head back to camp before it started raining. The kids were all in their swimsuits, and Ava was diaperless because we're classy like that.
2:35 pm: The typhoon arrives. As we were driving back to camp, we were being pelted by ginormous raindrops coming fast and furious. We finally made it, and Nils and I jumped out of the van to throw the rain fly back on the tent. Because, you know, at that point it really made a difference. We surveyed the damage, which was about an inch of water inside the tent. Everything was soaked. It was the perfect way to end our camping extravaganza. We started to wring stuff out, but quickly realized there was no point, so Nils just rolled everything up into the already deflated air mattress and stuffed it in the back of the van.
3 pm: Nils looked at me and said, "All I wanted....was a fun family experience. That's really all I wanted." We left Flaming Gorge (a day early)- foreeeevvvvver. We realized a few minutes into our descent down eternal canyon that Ava still didn't have a diaper and was probably peeing all over her carseat. She got one on eventually.
8 pm: Home sweet home. We laid everything out on our front lawn to dry out. The great thing is that it didn't look white-trashy at all. It goes without saying that we had some laundry to do- and that's when the washing machine started to gush water out the bottom. Yeah, actually that was the perfect way to end our camping extravaganza.
THE END
*Nils redeemed himself by disassembling the washing machine, figuring out what was wrong, and fixing it for 37 bucks. We're still married, and I still love him. And I'm sorry for the mean things I said.
*I went to the dentist yesterday and I need two root canals. I had one of them today and will go back next week for the other one. Ow. Darn stinking Skittles.
*The kids thought the whole experience was just great.
*Nils wasn't really literally dying to go camping.
24 hour camping EXTRAVAGANZA! Part 1
After I got home from girls camp, Nils declared to me that he wanted to go camping the following weekend- which was last weekend. I bought him a big fancy tent for Father's Day and he's been dying to go camping for a few months. DYING. Literally. I agreed, thinking we'd go up one of our many local canyons or whatever, roast s'mores, sleep in the tent and come on home.
It all went so wrong. So, so wrong.
Nils made a reservation at a camp site near Flaming Gorge. Apparently it was one of the only spots available in the entire world for the 4th of July weekend. Did you know that Flaming Gorge is 4 1/2 hours away from our house? Really? Huh. I did not know that. When I learned this small detail, I declared that we would not be driving that far to simply pitch a tent and be dirty for 2 days. Nils didn't cancel the reservation because he is stubborn, and was secretly hoping I would change my mind, which I was NOT. The big day rolled around, and I told him we could sleep in the backyard. He was grumpy. I suggested we go up the canyon for a picnic. He was still grumpy.
After a few crappy things happened that day, I had a split-second moment of sympathy and extreme generosity, and I made the horrible mistake of opening my mouth in that exact moment. "What do we need to do to go camping tonight?", I asked in my delirious state of good will. Well, that's all it took. 3 hours later we had the van loaded up and were on the road. The following is a breakdown of the next hell-filled 24 hours:
5 pm: On freeway, excited children, excited husband, generous me. With a bit of a toothache. Like any moron with a toothache, I ate some Skittles. Fatal error.
6 pm: Pull off side of canyon highway to let 3 kids pee. One of them peed on my pants and shoe.
7 pm: Stop in the town of Duchesne, Utah. WARNING: NEVER STOP HERE. EVER. This place is a pit. A hole. It sucks. Just keep driving, people. Learn from our mistake! We were all so hungry, and the only place to eat in this town was a super scary "pizzaria". The first sign that we should have kept driving was the parking lot made of mud, and the artificial flowers PLANTED in dirt outside. There is so much to tell about this frightening hour of our trip: The twelve-year old boy with bed-head who took our order, the office chairs doubling as "bar stools", the bathroom with a sample cup of urine sitting on top of the toilet paper, the woman who kept muttering under her breath as she made our pizza. But most bothersome was the old man who followed us around the joint, jiggling his belly, saying how much he liked pizza, and then saying to our children, "How'd ya like it if I took yer mommy home with me? How 'bout yer daddy?" Seriously, never go to Duchesne because it will haunt you for the rest of your days.
9 pm: Roll into Vernal. Compared to Duchesne, Vernal is a friggin' paradise. We were still quite shaken from our last stop, and so impressed with Vernal's relative awesomeness, that we missed our turn and continued driving East. An hour later, when all we saw were signs for DENVER, we decided to turn around. Just so you know, there is no cell phone service or data service in "The Basin", so Nils' brilliant plan of using his GPS app failed miserably.
10:30 pm: Roll in to Vernal. Again. I wanted to go to a hotel. Nils wanted to camp. By this time my teeth and mouth were ablaze and I thought I might need to go to the emergency room to A) get some narcotics and B) get out of driving any further. Nils and I...ahem..."discussed" what our next course of action should be. There may have been some bitter feelings at this point, just saying. Eventually we continued on, finding our turn and making our way up the canyon that never ends...
-To be continued-
It all went so wrong. So, so wrong.
Nils made a reservation at a camp site near Flaming Gorge. Apparently it was one of the only spots available in the entire world for the 4th of July weekend. Did you know that Flaming Gorge is 4 1/2 hours away from our house? Really? Huh. I did not know that. When I learned this small detail, I declared that we would not be driving that far to simply pitch a tent and be dirty for 2 days. Nils didn't cancel the reservation because he is stubborn, and was secretly hoping I would change my mind, which I was NOT. The big day rolled around, and I told him we could sleep in the backyard. He was grumpy. I suggested we go up the canyon for a picnic. He was still grumpy.
After a few crappy things happened that day, I had a split-second moment of sympathy and extreme generosity, and I made the horrible mistake of opening my mouth in that exact moment. "What do we need to do to go camping tonight?", I asked in my delirious state of good will. Well, that's all it took. 3 hours later we had the van loaded up and were on the road. The following is a breakdown of the next hell-filled 24 hours:
5 pm: On freeway, excited children, excited husband, generous me. With a bit of a toothache. Like any moron with a toothache, I ate some Skittles. Fatal error.
6 pm: Pull off side of canyon highway to let 3 kids pee. One of them peed on my pants and shoe.
7 pm: Stop in the town of Duchesne, Utah. WARNING: NEVER STOP HERE. EVER. This place is a pit. A hole. It sucks. Just keep driving, people. Learn from our mistake! We were all so hungry, and the only place to eat in this town was a super scary "pizzaria". The first sign that we should have kept driving was the parking lot made of mud, and the artificial flowers PLANTED in dirt outside. There is so much to tell about this frightening hour of our trip: The twelve-year old boy with bed-head who took our order, the office chairs doubling as "bar stools", the bathroom with a sample cup of urine sitting on top of the toilet paper, the woman who kept muttering under her breath as she made our pizza. But most bothersome was the old man who followed us around the joint, jiggling his belly, saying how much he liked pizza, and then saying to our children, "How'd ya like it if I took yer mommy home with me? How 'bout yer daddy?" Seriously, never go to Duchesne because it will haunt you for the rest of your days.
9 pm: Roll into Vernal. Compared to Duchesne, Vernal is a friggin' paradise. We were still quite shaken from our last stop, and so impressed with Vernal's relative awesomeness, that we missed our turn and continued driving East. An hour later, when all we saw were signs for DENVER, we decided to turn around. Just so you know, there is no cell phone service or data service in "The Basin", so Nils' brilliant plan of using his GPS app failed miserably.
10:30 pm: Roll in to Vernal. Again. I wanted to go to a hotel. Nils wanted to camp. By this time my teeth and mouth were ablaze and I thought I might need to go to the emergency room to A) get some narcotics and B) get out of driving any further. Nils and I...ahem..."discussed" what our next course of action should be. There may have been some bitter feelings at this point, just saying. Eventually we continued on, finding our turn and making our way up the canyon that never ends...
-To be continued-
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