With each wisdom tooth extraction, she learned a bit more about each of her children

This was a Twitter response from another mom to my post: A photo of my kitchen island holding a box of ice pops, pudding cups, ice cream, and a jar of chicken bouillon cubes labeled, “Teen wisdom teeth extraction starter kit.”

“Send me your conclusions. Mine has his scheduled for April,” she asked.

I didn’t need to wait to pass on advice. My third kid recently had his wisdom teeth removed. I knew it all.

“No straws and don’t video them afterward all loopy on anesthesia. It’s kind of cruel.”

Now, today, my third and last wisdom teeth removal kid is lying on the sofa with his pain meds wearing off. I stand by only one of those rules.

My own experience with wisdom teeth removal began at age 40. I had reached the point where the location of wisdom teeth created a fertile cavity garden. They had to come out.

“I usually see them a lot younger than you,” was the oral surgeon’s opening line that day.

Charming.

I woke up in what looked like a closet, with my husband and 5-year-old son staring at me. I lounged around at home for a couple of days, had constant Sonic slushes and ice cream brought my way. I gained 5 pounds from the experience. I learned not to use straws then, and not the hard way. The oral surgeon’s staff had warned me not to use them.

The no-straw directive hasn’t changed over the years, but what did change was technology —specifically, camera phones and social media.

My first kid got her wisdom teeth out in her mid teens. At that time, there was a plethora of videos on social media of kids coming out of anesthesia, with wads of gauze in their cheeks, and funny words coming out of their mouths. I wanted a funny video of my kid to share.

I learned that not all the videos are funny when my groggy kid kept repeating, “Is it over? Already?” I deleted the video after showing it only to her.

My second child is more animated by nature, so I did pull the camera out. The goal wasn’t to shame him by posting it publicly; I had learned from his sister’s experience that it was for his own entertainment. But maybe he would say something clever. Maybe I would get my funny sharing video? Nope. After we convinced him of the answer to his first question, “Is it over? Already?” he was, indeed, animated but the resulting video of him asking the nurse to go out with him, over and over, was, like his sister’s, boring.

That’s it. I was done Sofia Coppola-ing my kids’ dental procedures and vowed to my youngest that I wouldn’t video him coming out of anesthesia.

“Is it over? Already?” my final child said when I got to him post-procedure. Then he asked me to video him. Really? I had promised him I wouldn’t, but he insisted that he had some things to say. His videos were witty, custom messages to his dad, brother, uncle, and friend. Then, when I turned the camera off, he launched into Jim Croce songs. How does a 16-year-old know all the words to every Jim Croce song?

Good parenting, that’s how.

I again clicked the video button on my phone camera. If I had stuck to my no-video policy, he, and anyone he chose to show, wouldn’t be entertained by his gauze-mouthed, legitimately clever monologue.

I did not share it on social media, I’ve learned that sharing personal videos of my kids isn’t cool.

While my kids lost their wisdom teeth, I gained insight and have a final suggestion for my Twitter friend:

Roll with it. They won’t react to the procedure the same way because they’re not the same, and you, dear parental friend, won’t act the same with each because you don’t know it all. We’re all still learning.

Susan lives in the Kansas City area and is the co-host of the award-winning,women’s history podcast, ‘The History Chicks,’ and the host of ‘A Slice From The Middle’ podcast.

This story was originally published February 10, 2022 at 5:00 AM with the headline "With each wisdom tooth extraction, she learned a bit more about each of her children."