This morning I read a beautifully written post that, as happens frequently with Mom-101, coursed its way through familiar grooves in my working-mom scar tissue. It was only an hour before that I’d been at the dentist, Finley in tow, to have Briar seen. A tooth ache last Thursday led to a Friday morning call, Friday afternoon antibiotic and a Monday morning appointment. Under any other circumstances this would have been a huge win. Follow through, organization, resolution! Unfortunately the I-got-this attitude that so often sees me through, came right up and kicked me in the ass. The pineapple and coconut gum numbing stuff wasn’t working, the anesthesia didn’t seem to take, and then Finley spied the needle. Briar began to buck, tears streamed…