This Could Get Messy

Just when I thought my braces had become uninteresting. Just when I had reached the point where I only noticed them every 4-7 weeks when adjustment time was nigh. All H-E-double hockey sticks has broken loose and I am not talking about the Pujols deal. No, I am talking about the aftermath of having a power chain applied to my bottom teeth. Everything I had written about during the infancy stages of my bracefacefullness has returned en masse--the food storage, the random acts of spitting, the attack on my gums by those relentless brace brackets that were molded at the hands of evil gnomes. It's all back like that high school friend you'd like to forget who keeps trying to friend you on facebook. Like prairie dogs popping up out of no where when you least expect it. Four months shy of the two-year mark of bracefacefullness, I am officially experiencing the equivalent to a midlife crisis.


Midlife crises are called crises for a reason--no matter what random act of perceived youthfullness they entail, they are bound to get ugly. Let's examine, for a minute, just what defines a midlife crisis. To keep things simple, we'll go the wikipedia route. Apparently, the term midlife crisis came on the scene in the 60s (go figure) to "describe a period of dramatic self-doubt that is felt by some individuals in the "middle years" or middle age of life, as a result of sensing the passing of their own youth and the imminence of their old age." Oftentimes, they are triggered by a sense of regret over one's career path, dissatisfaction in one's relationship, the lack of a career or relationship, kids growing up and moving on (how is this different from empty nest syndrome?), parents passing on, your "friend" Skip, who repeatedly beats you on the links, or if you are a woman, your "friend" Gina who can't wait to show you the latest Gucci accessory she just "had to have", your hot neighbor, who is much younger than you, but totally legal and you can't be sure, but you think has given you "the look" on more than one occasion, but you may have just had spaghetti sauce on your cheek, and oh dear, I have severely digressed.

Anywho, I cannot say that my mid-brace-life crisis has been sparked by any of the triggers for a traditional midlife crisis, except for the fact that my little pitterpatterers are half grown and will be ditching yours truly sometime next year. Okay, so we have the source of the crisis. What are the symptoms? Now, this is where it gets funny. Really, read the wiki page on midlife crises. Here are the characteristics listed:

• search of an undefined dream or goal
• a deep sense of remorse for goals not accomplished
• a fear of humiliation among more successful colleagues
• desire to achieve a feeling of youthfulness
• need to spend more time alone or with certain peers

Well, I am searching for a goal, but it is not undefined. My goal is to get these blessed braces off of my teeth! There are no two ways about it. Am I remorseful that this goal has not yet been accomplished? Well, ask me again after 2.25 years post bracefacefullness has passed since my ortho said that he doesn't expect me to have to wear them longer than that. Fear of humiliation among more successful colleagues? Really? Who dons these brackets better than yours truly? Seriously. Moving on. While many people automatically assume that my getting braces so late in life is "all for vanity," I ain't too proud to beg to differ. For realz, folks, my TMJs were killing my head through stealth, intermittent, powerful, precision attacks.  And I just don't get the last one. Need to spend time alone, sure, but would "certain peers" be that other person you don't want to run into while out in public with your spouse for fear of creating an awkward moment? Hmmmm.

So, the diagnosis of midlife crisis remains elusive due to undefined symptomology. Fear not, friends, for I do not expect to get a tattoo, or body piercing, or red sports car, or a new friend named Chip, or start drinking hard liquor out of the bottle, or any of the other things that midlife crisisers do. No, I'll just go about my merry way, storing food in my lower power chain. I'll greet people with my pearly greens, having finally broken down and rekindled my relationship with salad. I will spit randomly and uncontrollably while LOLing. And I'll endure the constant battle between my brace brackets and my gums, because that is what all good moms do. Now, as my own mother so eloquently put it, I can't wait for these kids to grow up and move out!