Guilty as charged?

If there’s guilt to be had, I seem to want more than my fair share of it. I feel guilty about a lot of things. I feel guilty when my kids are late to school. I feel guilty when I don’t volunteer to bring homemade lasagna to school on Teacher Appreciation Day. I feel guilty when my kids eat cold cereal for breakfast-again. But few things make me feel guiltier than taking them to the dentist and finding out that they have cavities. Oh, man, I have shed some tears over cavities.

When Kennedy was about four, I took her to the dentist and she had several cavities. When the dentist said he would need to put in silver caps, I just about lost it. I shrunk down into my seat when he interrogated me (in fairness, he was a perfectly nice man, but I felt interrogated nonetheless):

“Does she eat hard candy? Does she brush her teeth alone, or do you do it for her?” (He added that he had brushed all his kids’ teeth for them until they were at least 10, which I thought was very strange indeed.) “Does she drink soda?” And then he looked askance at my newly-weaned one-year-old who was happily chugging milk out of a sippy cup and said: “And those sippy cups are just about the worst thing ever invented.” (Ever invented? Wow. And I had been feeling happy that she was finally weaned and actually proud that she was drinking from a sippy cup!)

I made an appointment to have the cavities filled with the dreaded silver caps and scrambled out to the car and buckled everyone in. I started bawling as soon as I dialed Brent’s number to tell him the grievous news. He felt bad for her-it’s no fun to have fillings-but he was genuinely puzzled by my reaction. He assured me that it wasn’t our fault and kept telling me that she would survive. She did survive and now has perfectly straight teeth (without braces) and hasn’t had any cavities since.

Marin (#2) hasn’t had any cavities. Stuart (#3) had a pile of fillings done (and the dreaded silver caps) when he was 3 or 4 and none since then. We eat pretty much the same stuff. The kids brush their teeth every night. I’m guessing they don’t brush in the morning because I don’t check. And they pretty much never floss. Thus, the rational part of my brain tells me that cavities are not my fault-just like it’s not an accomplishment to be proud of when I take them to the dentist and they have no cavities. It just is.

It’s interesting to note how readily I accept blame for bad things my kids do but am loath to take credit for good things. It makes more sense to take credit and accept responsibility for everything they do, doesn’t it? At least that’s consistent. So if I pat myself on the back because Stuart has only ever gotten one red mark on his conduct sheet in nearly three years of schooling, I should also accept responsibility when he kicks one of his sisters for teasing him.

Or can we pick and choose? Because if we’re allowed to pick, I think I’ll take the credit for all my kids’ good conduct sheets and pass the buck on the silver caps. Those just can’t be my fault.