The Cheese had an eye appointment on Monday. No big surprise the doctor informed us that he needed glasses. Really needed glasses in fact. Boy was he excited! Three other kids in his kindergarten wear glasses, so he had been asking for a while about wearing some. I knew that based on his genetic code (I wore glasses starting in the first grade) that it wouldn’t be much longer.
For all of you curious family members, he also has to have another surgery this fall. (He was born with a droopy eye lid–the lid muscle didn’t form completely–that requires surgery to fix.) He’s not quite as excited about that part as he was getting the glasses. But most of the year he’s been asking us when he’d get to fix his “little eye.”
Every time he calls it his “little eye” I have to restrain myself from going into a lengthy discussion about how it’s not little and it’s just the way that God made him and I think that he’s perfect and that if anyone ever says otherwise to let me know because I’ll hunt the kid down and…
But instead, I smile and simply say “Soon, buddy. You’ll have another surgery to fix it soon.”
When he was a baby, before his first surgery, people would ask me questions about his eye all the time. Total strangers would ask me if he had a lazy eye. No offense to anyone who has a lazy eye, but that really bothered me. Not because he didn’t have a lazy eye, but because here was this total stranger was trying to talk to me about something that they knew absolutely nothing about. They obviously had no idea what a lazy eye looked liked, so why were they trying to talk to me like they did?
The other people who were really irritating were the ones who would say, “Oh, he’s so sleepy.” Depending on the mood that I was in when the person said it, my response would vary. If I was in a semi-decent mood I would simply say, “Uh-huh. Yeah.” And if I was in a not-so-friendly mood I would lay into them with, “No, he was born with a small birth defect that will require a painful surgery to fix, but thanks for bringing it up.”
I said that to a lady once in the checkout line at Target. She was so embarrassed I thought she was going to pass out. Ahhh…So satisfying.
Apparently, I need some therapy regarding this situation.
I’m interested to see how long his excitement about his new glasses lasts. I already had to tell him twice yesterday to put his glasses back on, and I’m dreading the inevitable words “Mommy! My glasses broke!” because you know that it is bound to happen.
The glasses apparently haven’t affected his ability to enjoy his latest addiction–the brand-new Wii that his PaPa brought for him last weekend.
Guess it helps strengthen his hand-eye coordination. At least now he can see the screen better.