A Pirate Says ARRRRRRRRGH!

My poor baby! Not only is he blind - farsighted with a prescription of +3 and +4 - now he needs to wear a patch over his right eye for two weeks. It seems if you are extremely farsighted and refuse to wear your glasses because you have hit the terrible twos, AND you hide them in the recliner where they break and you go without glasses for two weeks waiting for them to be repaired, you develop a lazy eye.

It seems his brain shut off his weak eye in order to see better out of the dominate eye. The solution - patch the good eye. Sounds simple enough, unless you are the pregnant mother of said child. I was traumatized!

My kids are usually fighters in the doctor offices. If someone is messing with them in some fashion in which they don't approve, they cry, scream, kick, wiggle, and my oldest even bit one of her nurses attempting to administer a vaccination. Now that a few of them are older and can ask questions before freaking out, I am not so embarrassed by the younger ones. I even slightly admire their strong wills.

When the patch hit my son's eye, however, he didn't fit or fuss or fight. He was confused. After two or three minutes of silence he began to whimper. He was blind. His brain had no idea what was happening. It was the worst mommy moment ever. I was helpless. I couldn't fix it for him.

The next step was zombie mode. It was almost like his brain was rebooting, trying to figure out how to turn on the lazy eye. When we finally got home he began to wander around. He helped me pick up the giant checkers and put them away. Whew, I knew he was okay.

The only fun part of the event - seeing first hand how completely different two parents handle the same situation. Being the parent with eyeglasses, Ryan went with me to the appointment.

I am in the office near tears.
Ryan is joking with the doctor and asking important questions.

Ryan pulls him out of the car and expects him to walk by himself.
I yell, "HE'S BLIND!! PICK MY BABY UP!!!"

I gently coax him into picking up big, bright objects off the floor.
Ryan starts throwing WEEBLES at him to catch!

I understand why there is a balance of two parents, but man alive those guys are weird.

-Sara

Boys Being Boys

My son rummaged through his Valentines and was excited to find six temporary tatoos. One of them was an image of a Bratz doll. He handed it to me and said -

"Can you save this for me? I want to use it someday, but not right now, maybe this weekend." Then, he added in a whisper, "Because I like Bratz too, but please don't tell anyone."

Gender rolls - looks like we are in the girl-stuff-is-icky phase. Poor thing. He lives in a family where you are allowed to like whatever you like. Ryan's favorite color is purple, Grandpa used to take dance lessons, and Uncle is a stylist/salon owner (I should probably add - straight). My son himself used to be in a competitive dance duo. Too bad the rest world isn't always as accepting.

-Sara