The reframing worked!  I feel better.  It's funny - I often know how I'm supposed to go about being mentally healthy, but I just consciously choose not to be.  Because sometimes it's just so much more fun to wallow around in a stinky, self-doubt-filled abyss of my own creation.

This morning I took the little angel with me to the dentist (because I love punishment).  No, really I took her because I wanted to get her acclimated to the idea before her first appointment.  She fell off a tricycle at Toddler High yesterday and has a fat lip with a white, hurt-lip-skin spot in the middle of it.  She eyed the dentist chair warily, and was even more freaked out when I donned AmberVision sunglasses and lay down on it.  Her injured lower lip began to tremble.  Only SpongeBob Squarepants in the next room could console her.  (It didn't console me - I hate SpongeBob with the same intensity that I reserve for the Wiggles, the Teletubbies and Barney, none of which she's ever seen).  It was SpongeBob or crying toddler, though.  So...SpongeBob.

On the way back to Toddler High, she took out her new toothbrush and brushed Tellie 1 and Tellie 2's teeth.  Tellie 1 and Tellie 2 are the children of Star and Roar.  All of these individuals are rubber dinosaurs from Target's $1 aisle.  The little angel named all of them.  They apparently had VERY dirty teeth, because she wore out her new toothbrush removing all of that ick from their rubber mouths.  Most dinosaurs eat cavemen and brush and such, but Star and Roar in particular are often treated to bits of the little angel's dinner.  And yes, I allow this, because the little angel eats corn and cauliflower and melon and turkey slices, unlike many other toddlers that I know.  If Star has to mess up her stegasaurus mouth in order to get vegetables in my child, so be it.  You have to pick your battles, people.  Dental hygiene:  It's not just for humans anymore.