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Baby Bifocals

I rock these glasses!

I'm coming to terms with Tommy having glasses.  I'm not sure Tommy is getting any more comfortable with them, though!  I obsess about them much more than Tommy wears them, but it is progressing.  Sometimes I think he even forgets he is wearing them!

I think the hardest part for me now is that Tommy's glasses are different.  He has one clear side (no prescription) and one bifocal.  A old-person, big line-in the middle bifocal lens.  But just on one side.  I had someone ask me the other day "Oh, did he crack them already?"  Um, NO!  And if he did, do you REALLY think I'd let him wear them?  Or maybe you didn't think I noticed the big crack in the middle and you felt the need to point it out?  Um no.

Back when I couldn't wait for Tommy to get glasses, I never imagined this bifocal line.  From what I understand, children do better with the visible bifocal lens compared to progressive lenses because the difference in vision is drastic enough to help them learn the right place to look.  You need to learn where to look to optimize the utility of the lens.

The kid loves to pose!

When I first picked up Tommy's glasses, they had made them wrong.  They had put bifocals in both lenses.  It took me asking why for the optomotry assistant to notice.  We sent them back and they were corrected, but I was still unsettled.   I was skeptical that anything was right once we got them.  So when I (with my normal vision) looked through the glasses, I was convinced they had done them wrong.  The bottom part of the lens is for close-up vision. When I look through Tommy's, it magnifies thing.  This made sense.  However, when I looked though the top part, which is supposed to correct for distance, it made things smaller.  I was convinced that there was an error.  In my mind, I thought, "no WONDER he won't wear them!"  I was wrong.  I still can't explain it, but I did a lot of research to try.  I was hoping to read up and study and post an earth-shattering educational session on baby-glasses.  Well, I read up, I studied... but in the midst of that, I stumbled upon this.  Little Four Eyes "Understanding your Child's Glasses Prescription".  Super cool site, super-cool post.  Maybe you'll just be impressed at my research skills.  Or more likely, you read that post before you found mine.    I do hope you read this post... and really hope that you check out this link:  What your child's vision might look like without correction

I haven't figured out this glasses thing.  We are still working on it.  I will tell you that it takes a lot of work to get cream cheese out of the bifcal lens line.  I suggest removing glasses before serving anything messy.  I look forward to the day when he chooses to wear them... when they help him see.

Tommy and his big sis!

Tommy gets glasses

Tommy got glasses.  They came.

He hates them.

I hate them.

He needs them.

I know he needs them.

I hate them.

He looks adorable.

People tell me how cute he is.  People notice.  They notice the glasses.  The look questioningly at why only one has a bifocal.   They don't ask, but they notice.  I haven't created my spiel yet.  I will.  But I'm still digesting.  Still processing this latest edition of the eye chronicles.

I think he looks like the kid from Jerry McGuire.  I haven't been able to get "You had me at hello" out of my head.  It's kind of fitting.  He did have me at... well, not hello, but more like "waaaahhhhh".  Same difference.

Eye doctors, ambulances, advice, and labels.

Tommy has had an eventful week.  Which means I had a eventful stressful week!

On Tuesday we saw the ophthalmologist.  The appointment went well, the ophthalmologist gave us a good report.  Tommy appears to use both eyes together- and that always gives me a glimmer of hope.  I still remember the day that Tommy had his cataract removed and the doctor could not guarantee he would ever be able to see out of that eye.  (Yay, it works!)  He said patching appears to be working- and continue to patch 4-6 hours per day (boo to patching!)  He said pressures "look good"  (they are 16 in bad eye and 13 in good eye).  He said- time to order glasses.  The news I've been hoping for and dreading for some time.  I'm hopeful that he will be able to see better, but somehow the glasses make all of this so real.  I know that doesn't make sense- we patch, we deal with contacts, all that is very real, but glasses seem like such a statement to the world.  It just makes my heart feel a little sad.

In the waiting room!

The real excitement has nothing to do with Tommy's eyes.  Tommy got the "back to school virus" and it hit him hard.  He woke up on Wednesday with a runny nose and terrible fussiness.  Me, being the good working mom that I am, gave him albuterol to fend off any breathing problems.  He was afebrile, but I fully planned on sending him to daycare.  His breathing wasn't BAD, just congested.  An hour later it wasn't better, so I gave him another dose (still no wheezing even with a stethoscope).  On my way to daycare, I decide that we should see the doctor that day- just in case- and because I knew our favorite doctor wasn't in the office the next day.  I get the first available appointment, which was in 2 hours.  Not enough time to go to work, but in plenty of time to go to Target!  (We needed a few last minute things for Tommy's sister's birthday).  We leave Target, get to the doctor a few minutes early, and Tommy has progressed to serious respiratory distress (grunting, breathing fast etc).  He gets a few treatments in the office, gets some oxygen, doesn't get better.

Doctor's office (poor baby)

The doctor is concerned enough to make us go to the ER... via ambulance.  Which may make one think that we were immediately whisked away to the hospital (~10 minute drive with traffic).  Ahhh, no.  The ambulance took 15-20 minutes to arrive, much to the doctor's dismay.  Next, the EMTs decide that Tommy needs a CARSEAT to ride to the hospital in.  (No disrespect to any EMT professionals, but, seriously?)  Ok, so we get to the ambulance, DRIVE to my car in the parking lot, 2 EMTs and a security guard attempt to get the seat out of my car.  Did I mention that all 3 of these guys were men in their 50s?  Yep, it was actually funny to watch them try to finagle it out.  They wouldn't let me let go of Tommy since he would scream.  It took them 10 minutes.  Then they couldn't figure out how to attach it to the stretcher.  Genius.  Tommy's dad, who missed my initial texts and was 20 minutes away, beat us to the hospital by a LONG shot.

Tommy strapped in a carseat and strapped to a stretcher.   (huh?)

I totally rock the monitor!

We finally get to the hospital, get admitted, and spend the night.

Sweet sleeping angel

I'm feeling better!

Poor Tommy.  We were discharged and have another new experience under our belts.

Hello Doctor?  Let me go home!!

I am outta here!!

I learned that I am really good at telling people what to do, how to take their medicine, why they need to etc etc etc.  But I am really bad about taking my own advice.  I know he needs medicine, I know why, I know how, I just don't want to.  (I am, don't worry, I am, just doing it reluctantly)

My problem with all of this- is that it is just another LABEL.  Tommy had a cataract.  Tommy wears a contact.  Tommy wears a patch.  Tommy wears glasses.  Tommy has asthma.

I don't want Tommy to be defined by any of these labels.  I don't want people to think of him as "that asthmatic kid with glasses and the small eye".  I don't want people to make judgements that people make when they see my baby.  I guess this is a good learning experience for me, too.  Judging is easy and often makes you feel better about your own situation.  But judging is never good- and is rarely reflective of the whole picture.

THIS is Tommy.

Surprise Anxiety

It has been a while since I've been so... so anxious about "the eye" as I am right now.  I'm not even sure I understand fully what I'm feeling.

I've mentioned that we are currently having a war in our house.  Tommy versus The Patch.  He's become quite skilled at making sure that I cannot re-use any patch he gets his hands on, which means we are back to a 9-10 patch a day habit.  But that is Tommy.  That is normal.  That cannot be the source of my stress.

Contact vacation!

Tommy's contact is currently on back order.  I'm fairly convinced it is because they made an entire lot that wasn't really the correct size.  We were sent 3 contacts from Bausch and Lomb to replace the multiple contacts we lost in such a short period of time.  I finally broke into one- and it was ~3/4 the size of the contact he had in his eye (despite all the numbers on the bottle matching).  Only a seasoned iMom would notice that.  So I'm pretty sure they had to re-make and re-send quite a few!  We discovered this after losing the last contact that was correct.  Tommy has been on a contact vacation since Thursday.  Poor guy, we found it today (5 days later) on the floor of the garage.  Two disinfecting routine's later, I think it may still work.  Again, this is pretty normal stuff.

I think the big issue is that we see his eye doctor tomorrow.  I'm always a little nervous- but this seems like a big visit.  We've been told all along that he'd get glasses at 18 months.  I don't know if I'm ready.  It brings back all these strange feelings of remorse for him.  It hit me that he will wear these glasses... probably forever.  He will patch for the next 7 years, which will feel like forever.  It means the loss of some things- he'll never be a pilot (you need depth perception), he'll never be a baseball star (again, poor depth perception), his left eye will always be smaller... I don't know why this matters now, today, when nothing has changed.  He still is Tommy with a killer grin, an infectious laugh, and the cutest little face I could ever imagine.  While he has this "eye thing" he isn't any different than his friends in daycare in the things that matter.  But still I'm still in a state of unrest.  I'm hoping that it isn't a predictor of things to come.

Summer crazy

We have had quite a busy summer here- we packed a LOT in!  (I'm going to use that as my excuse for limited posts!)

May:  Eye appointment- no major news, no contact change, no glasses (Still!) and we spent as much time as we could outside (including a backyard campout!!)

I love it outside!

June:  School is out!  We had a dance recital (ok, Tommy's sisters did, but it affected him!), and the wedding of a family/friend

I rock a tux!

July:  Fourth of July, first haircut, vacation, and Cedar Point trip!

My first haircut!

I'm famous in Portland, Maine!

Northern Atlantic Ocean is COLD!

Ben and Jerry sure know how to make ice cream!

We ONLY use REAL maple syrup

August:  Real camp-out (a little nerve wracking with open fire and open water with a curious toddler!), more time outside, and trip to the Zoo (which was really in September, but I'm counting as end of summer)

I have to protect myself from the paparazzi (AKA mom)

Landscape project brings cool trucks!!

September:  Zoo trip and first day of school for sisters- and just another day for me.  Tommy was late to walk, but is apparently over-eager to hit the "terrible-twos" stage.  This is compounded by another round of 'Tommy vs Patch'.  He is also learning to take his contact out himself- a skill I wouldn't care if he never learned.

ROAR!

My sisters started new schools and mommy made signs, (note patch on backwards as he ripped it off 3 times by 7am)

As you can see- "The eye" hasn't taken over our lives.  (it takes over my thoughts a lot of the time still!)  Tommy is like any other typical 4th kid- dragged here, there, and everywhere!  He wears a contact, he wears a patch, but he's just another 18 month old who is spoiled rotten, naughty, sweet as sugar, and more fun than I every could have expected!

It's tough to get mad...

Remember how I said patching was going well? That was short-lived. Tommy regularly rips it off and we are back to spending a fortune in patches!
What is funny is... The older he gets, the more he understands. He KNOWS it is wrong, but does it anyway. He has started to pull it off, bring me the patch and say "HIiiiii!!!!" and give me the sweetest little smile, as if to say "I'm so cute, you aren't mad, right?". And it's true, this always makes me laugh. I still get a new patch, but I do it with a smile!

No news is good news

I've been very lax at keeping this blog up.  There are many reasons why:  I have 4 kids, I work full time, I like to sleep, just to name a few.  However, the main reason I haven't posted.... is that I have nothing to say!  Life has been pretty calm in the eye world for us:
We did have a recent ahh appointment 2 months ago.   No news (which is GOOD news!).  They checked pressures for the first time, they are fine (YAY!) and Tommy didn't mind the test (yay again- no EUA!).  No new vision tests (no cards or anything, I'm jealous!  See Eye Charts from "See the Distance").  No glasses (and I've been waiting and waiting for those!)  This appointment was just after our long series of contact losses where I nearly lost my mind... and perhaps shared that politely ummm, dramatically, with the optical technicians on the phone.  I guess they make note of such outbursts in medical charts.  Our PO asked how it was going and said oh-so-nonchalantly that if he kept losing them, we could consider surgery.  YIKES.  Hello wake-up call.  We really hadn't thought it was THAT extreme.  I guess inability to tolerate a lens is grounds for surgery.  Luckily, that has settled out a bit.

Knock on wood, cross my heart, pray for me, or whatever else will work... but we are in a relatively good place.  Patching isn't going horribly and we haven't lost a contact in over a month.  I'm trying not to expect badness... and am trying to enjoy this moment of peace.  I know it won't last forever, so I'm enjoying while I can!


Eye-wise, life is pretty boring!
 In other news:
     We attended the wedding of a really good friend:

Tommy wearing the tux in action.
GQ has already called.

And little man got a haircut!  (It was time- Tommy spent some time in the ER for trouble breathing... and the nurse thought he was a GIRL!)

The Before

The AFTER

Now THAT is customer service!

Ok, so I am blatantly going to rave about Bausch and Lomb right now.  As you may have read in previous posts, Tommy just went through a period of losing contacts at an amazingly fast pace.  He lost 4 within the span of 3.5 weeks.  What didn't ever settle with me is that his old contact (different prescription) stayed in... and it got plenty of use during the time we lost so many!  Also, we got another contact that has lasted quite a long time. 
I save all the contact bottles (who knows why... maybe it's an iMom thing).  I looked at the bottles of the contacts we lost... and the all had similar lot numbers.  In all, there were 2 lot numbers (4 contacts) and it was only the last 4 digits that differed between those lots.  I was convinced that something was wrong with them.  (My husband, for the record, thought I was CRAZY! And, I do admit, that losing that many did nearly put me over the edge...) 
Anyway.  I finally was home during business hours last week, so I decided to call the company.  My true plan was just to let them know.  Heck, we lost them, I really didn't figure they could to anything for me.

BUT GUESS WHAT?  They were thrilled to get feedback... ok, so maybe not THRILLED thrilled, but they were so nice and really listened to me.  But better than that?  They sent me 3 replacement contacts!  It is like I won the lottery!  (And truly, since I'm happy to win a dollar with a scratch-off lottery ticket, imagine my delight at this $750 package in the mail!)

I've got to hide from the paparazzi.

"Babies wearing contact lenses"

I found this on a random search... and it made me smile.  It is a good public service announcement... but still funny!  It makes me want to show this to every medical student and medical resident I work with.  Anytime they talk about "delaying the eye exam" I tell them my story and how early detection of cataracts... blah blah blah, you all know the rest.  I'm like a broken record, but it is my little way of trying to prevent someone from going through ANY time of horrible uncertainty.  (See  And so it begins...and Red eye reflex).  Next time I'll just send them to this!

Babies Wearing Contact Lenses

Hope makes someone else out there smile!

Just breathe

I can finally breathe.  Things are still hard... that never goes away, but it is never impossible.

I've got a beautiful little boy who has really good days:

And a few bad moments:

Just like any other little boy!

I feel the need to share that things really are mostly fine.  If you are new in this crazy journey and you read my posts, I'd hate to leave you thinking that things are always terrible.  They really aren't.  We've finally had a contact that lasted a whole week!  A record for this strength/size.  I've got a great group of "iMoms" who help me realize that none of us are alone, and we all are headed in the right direction.  Someday we will look back on these days... and miss all that they encompass.
(Ok, it would be preferable to have the memories not laced with patches, but I'm trying to be poetic here!)
I should make sure that I put a patch in the baby book....

Pictures are worth a thousand words

Gotta love a man in a tux!

Random thoughts

This post is unlikely to be helpful or even make sense.  I've just had a jumble of thoughts that I need to let loose.  After reading other eye-mom blogs, my ranting really isn't well thought out and certainly won't be well-written, but I need to get it out.

1.  IT IS NOT A BAND-AID!
     I took a few days off this week (no daycare for Tommy).  I, of course, spent those days shopping.  In the saleslady kept talking to Tommy about "his cute little band-aid!"  "Don't you have a cute band-aid with little fishies on it!"  "Isn't that such a cute little band-aid!"  Yes, I did refrain from punching her right in the face (but I certainly did it in my head).  I chose to ignore her.  Until the end.  The patch didn't last through the whole store- he took it off and placed it squarely on his chest.  When I checked out, the saleslady hurried over and said (loudly):  "Where is your band-aid!  What happened to your BAND-AID?"  So, I told her the whole stinking story.  I wish it ended there.  Nope.  She needed to add that "her nephew had to wear a patch, you know, he had what must have been some genetic thing where his eye crossed right in, you know?  Well, he's not so little anymore, and you wouldn't even know it!  So don't worry, he'll be fine!"
I know, I KNOW she meant well.  But she ruined my zen shopping experience.  Tommy LIKED the Gap, he didn't squeal and throw things in The Gap.  Kids clothes were 40% off!  Stupid lady.

2.  The contact that wouldn't die.
    Tommy has lost many contacts in the last few weeks.  One lasted 3 days.  One lasted 7 days.  One lasted 1.5 hours.  But, through it all, there is one contact (the previous prescription) that has resurfaced in many places:  his diaper, behind his crib, on the floor of the car, under his high-chair, and in his car seat.  That ONE contact has survived many ills, it's cloudy and he likely can't see great with it, but we HAVE it.

3.  The contact we can't keep.
  The new, ultra-slim, +17 contact that was prescribed in February?  I'm on #5 (with #6 on order).  This last one?  I got it in the mail Wednesday night.  I put it in Thursday morning, dropped 2 girls off at one school (Tommy stayed in car), 1 girl off at preschool (Tommy came in), and went to Speedway to get caffeine (Tommy came in).  When we get home?  Gone.  Gone, gone, gone.  I searched the car and myself, and the car again and my house, but it's gone.  I really do think he eats them.  I looked at preschool at pickup (no luck) but didn't really want to skulk around Speedway...  chalk it up to another one gone.

4.  This just sucks
   I don't really need any further explanation.  You all know.  It sucks and I'm tired of it.

5.  Tommy finally took a step!
   This has nothing to do with his contact, but Tommy finally took a step- 5 of them!  14 months old and he can finally walk!

I think I've created a monster

I knew better, I really did.  I KNOW people who have "spoiled" their kids because of an illness (real or perceived).  I swore I would never be like that, swore it with all of my heart those long-ago days when I didn't have children.  But.... I have done it.  Tommy is spoiled rotten.  I don't mean the too-many toys spoiled rotten, I mean the "I get whatever I want the moment I want it" kind of spoiled.

To be fair, I'm not certain that it is ALL related to the gut-wrenching guilt I feel every day having to put the itch-sticky patch on his cute little face... but that is always there.   He's cranky?  Oh, it must be the patch, I'll carry him.

It's also partly because if he screams and cries too hard... that little lens that is oh-so-important, can pop right out.  I have a 50-50 chance of finding that $250 piece of silicone.  He's crying?  Give him what he wants, he can't cry too hard!


It's partly because he's baby #4 and gets dragged from one activity to another.  He's screaming?  Give him what he wants, we can't bug the people around us, don't make them stare.


Yep.  I created a monster.


It hit me today as he screamed... and I do mean SCREAMED for 20 minutes straight over what is likely a case of no-more pudding.  (I'm not even sure, but I was VERY sure he wasn't hurt/hungry/wet/etc.  He screamed, he cried, he clenched his fists, he rolled on his belly kicked his feet and wailed.  Full-on temper tantrum.   It was funny... it really was... would've been a lot funnier if it had been someone else's kid.  I wanted to scoop him up and make it stop... but he cannot use screaming as his method of communication.  A reach, a sign for more, we waited for anything.  We waited for 20 minutes.

What's worse?  I watched each of his 3 sisters go and get some favorite toy/treat/binky... in an effort to stop the screams.  I stopped them each time- this has to stop.  It hit me that there are 5 of us catering to his every whim.  That's probably why he doesn't talk... doesn't walk.  He doesn't have to!

In the end, he reached for me, I picked him up and cuddled him, and all was well.  Contact in, ego bruised.  We all survived.

Oh yeah, I get what I want!

So here I begin the training of a future man.  He will not get what he wants by screaming.  He knows simple signs, he will eventually learn to talk.  I will attempt to make him a little less spoiled (future wife, you can thank me now!).  Wish me luck... the hardest thing may be convincing his sisters.

Vacation/Confessional

As I said in the last post, we went on vacation last week.  That's a crazy enough feat with 4 kids, but add a contact and a patch and YIKES!  Here is how it went:

Another one gone?

Day 1 (10 hour car trip to Knoxville, TN):  Lose contact in car.  Spend 2 hours alternately searching Tommy's eye and what I can reach of him for contact.  Find lost contact at the bottom of his car seat caked with cracker crumbs.  Time patched:  MAYBE 3 hours.

I rock this patch!

Day 2:  Knoxville, TN:  Replace clean and disinfected contact.  Tour around Knoxville (love that town!).  No patch or contact drama.  Meet a lady who tells me that she is completely blind in one eye because her parents gave up on patching (not sure she was blaming them, just stating facts) due to lazy eye.  Weird encounter.  Total Patch time:  5 hours!  Success!!
Or was it?

Day 3:  Still in Knoxville, watched Daddy run a marathon (3 hr 23 minutes!).  But guess what?  Tommy lost the contact again... and I'm not sure where.  I scoured the hotel room for hours (luckily it was a lazy day).  I DO NOT recommend scouring any hotel room.  I'll leave it there.  I looked in every nook and cranny of that room (shudder) and I'm guessing he lost it at dinner the previous night during the meltdown.  I thought I saw it before bed, but maybe not.  Patch time?  0 hours.  :(

Day 4:  12 hours in the car to Florida.  I admit, I didn't even try, I was determined to hang on to that last contact until we got to the final destination.  Patch time?  0 hours.  :(


Day 5:  Seaworld!  Contact in, patch on.  Terrible awful foreign man points, gestures, and brings his friend to gawk at the beautiful baby with a patch.  Ugh.  Patch time:  5 hours!  Success!  Take that awful man!

Day 6:  Magic Kingdom!   Contact is in.   Hot sick baby dragged around an amusement park.  Terrible mom day.  Patch time?  Maybe an hour.


Day 7:  Animal Kingdom!  Tommy gets sick- now carried around an amusement park (in 90 degree heat) and sleeps for most of it (my back is STILL killing me!).  I know, I know, but it was just a cold.  Patch time.  Ugh, none.  BUT we did see that girl patched in this park!  (heap on the mom guilt!)


Day 8:  Going home.  10 hour car trip.  Patch time.  1 hour.

Day 9:  Still traveling.  Patch time?  Ugh.

I alternated between extreme guilt for not patching optimally and relief at not thinking about it. The days that we didn't patch were half about self-preservation and half to make sure Tommy's unhappiness didn't impact everyone else's vacation.   (He's taken to loud shrieking when he is unhappy- patching makes him unhappy, the parks were crowded, they  might have kicked us out!).  I think I made the right decision given the circumstances... but I still obsess.

Thanks for reading my confessional!

Still in shock

We went on vacation last week to Florida.  I have a lot to blog about... but the one pressing most on my heart is what I will write first.  This happened at Seaworld (which was great and Tommy loved!)  However, I had an experience that I hope never to have again.  In another post, I will talk about what a bad mother I was about poor patching... but that is for later.

Picture this:  A beautiful little girl and a beautiful little boy in a double strolled pushed by a serene exhausted mother through the idyllic crowded amusement park.  In fact- it looked a little like this:

Pretend he is patched...

Here is the patch

We were waiting near some benches in the shade when I noticed a man come over a few feet away from me, POINT at Tommy and start speaking and gesturing to his friends, who also came to look.  I'd like to tell you what they were saying, but I have no idea.  I'd like to think they were remarking on Tommy's extreme handsomeness or Addie's beauty... but I don't really think that.  I'm SO MAD!  This was a grown man pointing and talking about my baby!  If he had spoken English, I would have screamed at him (yes, I realize it wouldn't be a good example).  If I thought he'd understand, I'd have explained.  My mom tried to suggest that maybe he was intrigued by the cute patch.  I think he was just rude.  I can't think of any culture where pointing and gesturing is considered OK.

This didn't ruin my vacation.  It didn't even ruin that day.  It is just a blip- but a terrible, awful, I-hate-people kind of blip.  

On a happier note.  At Animal Kingdom, I saw a little girl (maybe 6 years?) with a patch on her glasses.  I have no idea what the reason was- it was her vacation- I didn't want to talk to them about the patch (not to mention that Tommy wasn't currently patched so it would've just been weird).  She was chosen to help out in the Lion King show and I was so happy!  No one pointed or laughed either!  Yay for patched kids and patching moms/dads!!!  And boo to ignorant adults.

Perspective (Again)

As my last post alluded to, things have not been easy in patch-land or contact-land for us.  I've been wallowing in self-pity again (or self- and Tommy-pity).  It is HARD, no two ways about it.  I know deep in my heart that i am so lucky that this EYE is the only thing wrong with Tommy and that so many others deal with so much more.  I know that, and at times, I can appreciate that!  Just not when I'm feeling sorry for myself!

But, like life usually does, I got smacked up side the head with a heavy dose of reality recently.  I was home with 3 of my 4 kids- one of them Tommy, who happened to be sick and whiny (which is why I was home!).  Tommy didn't have a contact or patch in (grr, another long story that involves a long lost contact and another one that failed to arrive!).

This reality came in the form of a tornado- really, a tornado hit near my home last week- rare in our part of the country! A tornado!  Thankfully, we are fine.  (Thankfully, because this mama had no idea it was coming, hadn't listened to the radio or turned on the TV, and we are too far out in the country for any tornado sirens...)  The kids and I watched crazy wind (not abnormal for our area) and hail (well, a little less normal but it happens), but didn't know it was a tornado until much later.  (t started above our house, I didn't see the funnel cloud, and I admit that I am a little disappointed that I didn't see it.  It was visible from my house, had I looked out the right window!  Later people asked if I heard it... they all said it sounded like a train.  Well, I had a crying whiny 1 year old, a sobbing 4 year old (the wind broke her playhouse), and a sassy 7 year old milling about.  Uhhh, no.  I didn't hear anything but our normal ruckus.

Hundreds of people had major damage, many are without homes.  Thankfully no one was hurt or killed.  Thank-you God.

But really.  In relation to all that?  I need to keep perspective.  So it sucks that Tommy wears a patch and loses contacts and I lose my mind.  I have a wonderful family, healthy kids, and an intact home.  I really SHOULDN'T ask for any more.

Easy come... VERY easy go

We lost another contact.... yes, another contact.  Shortest time ever- 8 days.  It was such a nice little contact- +17.  The smallest we've had.  Patch time this past week was, well, less traumatic.  Not easy.  Never easy. 

We've now gone through 9 contacts in 11 months.  In case you were wondering, that is $2,250 worth of contact lenses.  To be fair, 2 of these are still sitting in the little bottles that I've been saving, 2 that we didn't lose but simply had a change in prescription.  One got sent back to B&L because it irritated Tommy's eyes...  But that leaves 6 lost.  Where do these rogue contacts go?  Are they hiding out somewhere with single earrings, caps to chapstick... my lost keyless entry system for a car we no longer have?  To think... I cried over that lost "key" for days and was stressed about paying $75 to have it replaced.  I could buy 3 of them for the cost of ONE contact!
Eight days.  Gone.  This loss was harder for some reason.  Maybe because we were doing OK... we were down to 3 patches per day (from 8-10) and it slipped in so nicely and out so easily.  First try,no tears, no red eyes.  Maybe because I feel guilt for letting him cry for a little bit during his nap.  That is likely when he lost it.  I let him cry because he NEEDED his nap and I NEEDED his nap...  And now the contact is gone.
Worse, I let a beautiful, sunny,  60 degree day (rare here in Michigan in March) slip by without enjoying it.  I spent the whole day inside searching... searching.  The crib, the clothes, the sheets, even his diaper in case he ate it.  I know, I know, but that is the desperation I was feeling.  I didn't find it.

Tommy gets a few days without the contact/patching drama.  And still I mourn that stupid little piece of silicone.  Curse that little white spot and curse that stupid little contact.

What a difference a year makes!

One year ago today I sat in our pediatrician's office for a routine check.  It was anything but normal.


One year ago that same pediatrician found a small imperfection in my baby boy's eye.  Or rather, she found an absence of something.  See: And so it begins


One year ago today I learned what a red reflex was... and what it could mean not to have one.
See: Red Reflex



One year ago today I couldn't look into my baby's eyes without crying.


One year ago today I mourned the fact that my baby wasn't perfect.  That is still hard to admit.


One year ago I wondered if I would survive the next 4 days until I knew what the diagnosis was.


One year ago I prayed harder than I have ever prayed in my life.   I prayed that my baby would have a cataract, not cancer (retinoblastoma).


One year ago today, I became obsessed with eyes.


Oh what a difference a year makes!


Today I only briefly even thought about the eye... only for a moment when I decided that the goop coming out of the eye meant that I couldn't put in a contact or patch.  I vowed to let him enjoy it.n  (He did!)

Today I changed diapers, fed children, picked up toys, did laundry...  normal mom stuff.

Today I encouraged a little boy to talk, to walk, and I tickled him until he could barely breathe.

Today is a MUCH better day.