Before I left high school, it was twice a year for me. My parents would remind me, I'd be a good child and make an appointment, had insurance, and bam. They checked my teeth, complimented them but scolded me for not taking care of them as well as I should, and I would leave.
The cycle would repeat; I'd acquire a very good habit of cleaning them after the dentist, only for that same routine to slowly fade away as the weeks flow by.
Now, however, I rarely go. At this point in time, I only go if I were to develop some sort of pain or annoying disturbance. Luckily, nothing of that nature has popped out just yet.