The Dinosaur Gets a Turn First
A fictional parent tries a smaller, calmer bedtime routine when brushing becomes a nightly argument, and learns what help to ask for.
We were both tired
By the time we reached the bathroom, my daughter had rejected two pyjamas and remembered an urgent question about the moon. I was holding a toothbrush like a deadline. She was holding a plastic dinosaur like legal representation.
I had tried explaining cavities. She was three. The explanation had not improved either of our evenings. Some nights she waved the brush near her mouth and I wanted very badly to call that finished.
A different starting point
The Canadian Dental Association says young children need an adult to clean their teeth, with help continuing as their skills develop. Letting her hold the brush was useful practice, but it did not mean she could reach and clean everything herself.[1]
At the next visit I wanted a demonstration: where should I stand, how could I see the back teeth, and what should I do when the brush felt unpleasant to her? I wrote those questions down instead of promising myself to become more patient by sheer force.
Meanwhile, we moved brushing earlier, before we were both exhausted. She chose between two suitable brushes. The dinosaur watched from the dry side of the sink, which was the only appointment available to him. We kept his plastic mouth and her toothbrush separate.
A workable evening
There were still objections. One involved the dinosaur's lack of pyjamas. I paused when she became upset and kept the routine simple. Persistent distress or pain would be something to discuss with the dental team, not something to push through.
That night we finished with enough time left for the moon question. I did not know the answer to that one either.
Nina