I have to go to the dentist today. I don’t wanna.
Last time, he sang along with the radio, right in my ear, while he was working. I actually didn’t mind that. At least he has a decent voice.
I just don’t want to sit there for an hour, unable to speak, unable to move, while someone pokes my gums with sharp stuff.
It’s about control, really. I hate handing it over to someone I don’t know well, even someone as professional and courteous as my dentist.
I cherish my freedom and I just don’t like having other people tell me what to do.
I dreamed about freedom a few nights ago. I was jogging.
With a bad foot and crappy knees, I don’t jog when I’m awake, so this was a good dream for me.
I felt strong and athletic, but I was still my full-figured, curvy self.
It was great. I could run!
Did I mention I was topless in this dream?
Yeah, I was jogging with great joy and no shirt.
Blissful, confident, total abandon.
Unfortunately, there was another person in the dream.
This person didn’t harm me physically in any way, but he made it perfectly clear with cat calls and criticism that I should cover up.
I felt defeated and held a piece of cloth across my chest.
The dream sort of faded out at that point, but the meaning was clear to me when I woke up.
I felt free, someone judged me, and then I didn’t feel free.
Isn’t that odd?
I think I dreamed it all in anticipation of the dentist today.
I have so much courage, until someone tells me to sit still. Then I’m a big, angry, socially anxious mess. 😡
I hate being told to sit still or to be quiet or to wait. And I’m a grown-up.
I realize as I’m typing this, that these are the things I constantly tell my son.
Sit still. Be quiet. Wait.
Stand here. Wear this.
It’s never ending, this list of things I expect of him, this list of controls.
And these things are so much harder to do when you’re a kid. Poor little boy.
I feel like I’m a fairly calm mom about most stuff. My house is a playground, not a showcase. He gets to do a lot more than other kids I know. I have rules, but not as many as my friends do.
Kids need order and routine and an understanding of the authority in their lives. I know all that, but I still feel bad for him.
I wish I never had to tell him to sit still, be quiet or wait.
Wouldn’t it be great if no one ever had to tell him that?
Wouldn’t it be great if he never felt the pressure of societal constraints?
Of course, there is irony in my dream and consequential feelings about freedom and my son’s happiness.
I am, after all, the girl who prefers no public nakery.
Shall I eat my cake or have it?
And which thing shall I teach my son?
Such a conundrum.
Jogging topless did seem kind of fun…
P.S. After shedding tears of dread in the dentist’s office parking lot, I sat nervously in the lobby for two minutes and was horrified by the opening sequence of the movie on the waiting room dvd player. When the dental tech opened the door and called my name, I was relieved to go inside. Funny how dreading a new thing can make the old thing seem like no big deal.