The Two Cent Toy
This morning was one of those mornings where motherhood handed me a lesson I didn’t ask for. We were just trying to get through an ordinary dentist appointment, but I left with the experience feeling much bigger.
For context, we’ve been going to the same pediatric dentist since my oldest first toddled in at two years old. She’s five now … confident, curious, the kid who hops right up into the chair like she’s been doing it her whole life. My younger one, at three and a half, has been a few times too, but today… today was different. She was scared. Not dramatic or melting down but just honestly, consistently scared.
In our house, the only thing we really care about is that our kids try their best. We don’t ask for or expect perfection (what is that anyways). We also don’t expect bravery to look like the way sometimes adults expect kids to be. We just want them to try…just show up with whatever they have that day.
The Fear
So from last night through the drive there, my 3 year old kept saying it:
“I’m scared.” “This feels scary.” “I don’t want the dentist to brush my teeth.” And again, “I am scared.”
And she meant it. Her little body was telling her the truth.
She let the hygienist count her teeth, which honestly felt huge. But when it came to the cleaning, she froze. She honestly wasn’t being defiant, avoidant or “not listening.” She was just scared. And I wasn’t going to override that. I wasn’t going to teach her that fear is something her nervous system has to bulldoze through simply because an adult wants you to.
This was a parenting moment where I felt that forcing this cleaning to happen would teach the wrong lesson.
The Token, the Apple, and the Two Freaking Cent Toy
At this dentist, after the cleaning, the kids get a token to put in one of those old-school machines, you know the kind you twist and out pops a tiny plastic toy that literally costs two cents. They also get a little paper apple with their name on it to tape to “name” board.
My 5 year old got her token. My 5 year old got her apple.
You know where this is going…
That’s right. My 3 year old was offered neither.
And when she saw her sister get the token, she broke down. Not because she didn’t get the toy, but because she understood the message: I didn’t get one because I was scared.
And that didn’t sit right with me. She tried. Honestly. She showed up, she voiced her fear instead of stuffing it down. She did everything we teach our kids to do.
So I walked to the front desk as we were leaving and said as I held her hand tight, “She was really brave today. She got her teeth counted but when it was time for the cleaning she was really scared. But she was really brave and tried her best. Can she please have a token?”
The woman behind the desk looked at me and said with confidence:
“The hygienist said I’m not allowed to give her one.” (insert angry mom emoji!!!)
That answer hit me harder than I expected, probably because I didn’t think she would actually say no. That stupid rigid rule, that lack of nuance, and that inability to see the difference between “not trying” and “trying while scared.”
A woman overheard this conversation. I am assuming she was an owner, office manager, etc. “Just give her one. We don’t want to punish her for trying.”
I walked out of there annoyed, clearly I needed to journal and write about it immediately.
What Motherhood Keeps Teaching Me
I don’t always know what motherhood is teaching me. But today it reminded me of this:
Kids deserve to learn that fear is not failure. How many of us wish we had the opportunity to learn this as kids?! (Hello, me)!
Trying, even when it’s messy, even when it’s incomplete, is still trying. And sometimes the most important thing we can do as parents is protect the meaning they make about themselves. Because what we don’t, they sure as hell will make up about themselves.
So my daughter didn’t get her teeth cleaned today. But she did get her token and the message I wanted her to have all along: “You were brave because you tried.”
I’m going to leave it at that.
