Tuesdays with the Cronisers

Wow! Could this be? Is it really? 

A blog post?

YES!

I can't believe I have not blogged in over 2 weeks. Shame on me. Bad blogger, Gini, bad.

I have been meaning to, really I have, but I just have been so caught up, you know, just moving into our house! I am sure you want to hear about our new home or the Marine Corps Ball, but nope, I am going to tell you about our Tuesday! Fun, right?

Brandon had all hands training today in Springfield, so he had to wake up extra early because it is an hour drive. And lucky me, I got to wake up extra early too. A few days ago Brandon's emergency brake was frozen in the morning (I think that's what he told me), so he had me drive him to work. Thank goodness our house is literally less than 1 mile away from his work. I was happy to take him, but then the next day he wanted me to drive him again and this morning he wanted me to drive AGAIN!

What is this? Driving Mr. Brandon? Seriously. 

It's a good thing he is cute...otherwise, he'd have to walk to work. 

I'm kidding. 

He was told to dress "nice" to his meeting. Which is really strange. Like really. They always wear some sort of uniform. We thought maybe it was a joke they play on the new guy. 

Brandon shows up in slacks and a tie and everyone is in their Dress Blue Charlies laughing at him, like

"Idiot. This is the Marine Corps, we wear uniforms! Hahaha."

So here Brandon is, all dressed up in nice civilian clothes for his meeting. 

Turns out, it wasn't a joke!

While Brandon went off to his all hands meeting, I went to the dentist! The first for me in over 3 years. Eek! That's bad. My wisdom teeth have started to come in and one in particular has really been hurting me. Really bad. I can't even touch it back there without inflicting an enormous amount of pain. It sucks. So I made an appointment with the dentist. What an adventure that was.

First, everyone in the office was extremely nice. But of course they all felt bad for me that I moved here from San Diego. Just once I want someone to say "You are going to love it here!" 

Instead of, "Oh, why did you move here?"

I went on to have x-rays taken. Eighteen x-rays to be exact and tears started welling up in my eyes at x-ray #3. The technician got a soft, foam cover to put over the thing they put in your mouth. I felt like they only do that for little kids, but I didn't care. 

Those x-rays are so uncomfortable to do and they hurt! 

After x-rays, I saw the dental hygienist who proceeded to look at my x-rays and comment on how bad my teeth are, in the nicest tone of voice. Listening to her, you would have thought my previous dentists worked out of their van in an alleyway in Mexico. She went on to say how my gum and bone was withering away. And how it will never come back and since I am so young, I need to start taking preventative measures or there will be nothing left when I am old. 

The whole time I was like, "I am right here! I can hear you!" Thank goodness my mouth can't hear, it would have been really offended. 

Then the best part came, the scraping. That lady scraped my teeth for 30 minutes with 3 different scrapers. Ouchie. I could taste blood and I felt like pieces of my teeth were coming off. It was very unsettling. She hit my wisdom tooth and I raised my hand indicating that it hurt. And then it happened, the tears starting coming. Down the side of my cheek and into my hair. 

She felt bad. I felt like a baby.

After she beat the crap out of my teeth, the dentist came in and confirmed everything the dental hygienist had said about my teeth. My poor mouth. It's not my fault I have bad teeth and my mom never taught me how to brush correctly! 

They referred me to an oral surgeon and sent me on my way.