In orthodontic news, last week the twins got braces.
It’s kind of one of those milestones in life. You know. Like taking your first step or losing your first tooth or the first day of kindergarten or memorizing the multiplication tables or learning how to ride a bike.
Except maybe not as fun.
They were so excited about the new adventure. They counted down the days and talked to their friends about rubber band colors and grinned at themselves in the mirror and tried to imagine what they would look like with braces on.
And then early one morning they arrived at the orthodontist’s office….
…and walked out with a new smile.
At first the braces didn’t hurt.
But I was ready.
I was prepared with applesauce and shakes and pudding and soup. But they didn’t want any soft foods. They told me they were fine….
….and laughed in the face of jello.
Until later finally arrived.
They are troopers, those twins of mine.
Even when the braces started hurting, they didn’t really complain. Most of the rest of that day and the next they simply sat with sad faces and sipped soup and held their head in their hands and tried not to move their mouths too much.
It broke my heart.
Later that afternoon one of the twins came into the living room and curled up next to me on the couch, laying her head on my shoulder.
“I’m so sad, Mom,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.
I put my book down and looked at my weary, blue-eyed, golden-haired teenager, trying so hard to be brave.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, wishing I could wipe every bit of the hurt away. “Are you sad because your mouth hurts?”
“No,” she sighed softly. “I mean that’s part of it, but it’s not really what I’m sad about.”
“Is it because braces aren’t as fun as you thought?” I asked curiously. “Is that what you are sad about?”
“No,” she said. “That’s not it, either. It’s something so much sadder than that.”
Oh no. This was serious.
This was sadness central.
Suddenly, she burst into tears.
“Mom, you don’t understand,” she sobbed. “I was upstairs trying to sing my favorite song…..and….and….I couldn’t. Every time I would try to sing, I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. I tried and tried…
….but I couldn’t get my lip over the top of my braces in time.”
I wanted to laugh out loud.
I wanted to tell her that braces would pass.
I wanted to fix her some more soup.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I told her not to be sad, not to cry, not to worry.
I could sing extra for both of us. 🙂
PS When I saw this yesterday I almost cried. Thank you Country Living for the shout out. I adore you.