And then it turned out he was almost blind?
And his eyes were turning in?
But I had no idea because I'm the type of parent that really tries to foster independence early on for things like sight and hearing and, well, really all the senses.
I'm a free range sense parent.
It's a thing. Look it up.
You can read the exciting saga of Cole's vision here, but the general idea is that Cole has really poor eyesight and I had no idea.
I've found though, one good thing about having so many children is that you get to have a re-do on these types of mistakes.
(I'll think of another good thing about all these kids some day. Check back.)
At Max's one year appointment the nurse showed him a black view finder type thing with lights and beams. When Max looked at the lights, the magic viewfinder told her if there were any deficiencies in his eyesight, which apparently there were.
Like a lot of deficiencies.
On Wednesday, Max had his appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist to have his vision fully checked. I was told the appointment would take two hours, which I assumed was so long because they were first going to have to teach him how to say more than, "dog," and learn all the letters to take that eye exam.
Turns out that was not necessary.
(It would have been more entertaining if they could have pulled that off though. So much for doctors being amazing.)
I was very concerned about how this was all going to go down. A two hour medical appointment during nap time with a one year old?
This is my zone though. I've been taking small people to awful situations to be extremely uncomfortable for over ten years now. I stocked my purse with 6,000 raisins and crackers and food pouches and bars and water cups to be sure I could feed him out of any rough patches.
(I'm pretty sure this is not the correct approach to giving your child a healthy relationship with food, but with the fourth I'm doing whatever I can to minimize trauma to me, not him.)
Max did surprisingly well for the entire visit. There was a kid's play area! There was a Nemo! There were empty offices with tissue boxes that may or may not have tissues any longer! He sat patiently while the doctor held lens in front of his eyes and shook things and made funny sounds and switched the lighting a lot.
Several people asked me how they can test a baby's vision. Apparently the doctor can actually just look at the workings of the inner eye while dilated and see what lens is the best match for the baby's vision. She explained the whole process to me, but it involved a lot of physics and words I didn't remember from when I studied the eye in college.*
As far as I'm concerned, it was a lot of magic. She could be a witch.
I'm not saying she is.
But I wouldn't be shocked or anything if I found that out later.
She was really nice though. She looked like she believed I understood her physics eye talk, and I needed that. I was surprised by how much I liked having this very intelligent woman talk to me about complicated things while I nodded and yes'd my way through the conversation.
I, unfortunately, discovered I also felt a surge of pride when filling out the paperwork for Max when I arrived. It almost felt like I was employed in an office. I had a clip board and a very nice ball point pen and Max was completely distracted by the baby play area so I could focus.
I filled out that entire form with excellent penmanship and 100% accuracy. I don't want to start bragging or anything, but the receptionist did also comment on how neat my handwriting was AND how quickly I completed the entire task.
I think she was about to offer me a job.
Sorry miss, but I can't work here, I have to feed that small fat baby raisins and prevent him from throwing things in the toilet all day.
I realize this post was supposed to be about Max's eyes. I really led you to believe that, but is anyone else a little disturbed that I enjoyed filling out a form that much? What does this say about the lack of actual intellectual stimulation for me these days?
Alex has had several things happen recently with his job which are big accolades for him. The details are sort of boring, but just trust me, there is stuff and it's really wonderful and I am extraordinarily proud of him.
I also might feel a pang of jealousy mixed in there.
I posted and article on Facebook this week, about the scientific link found between musical education as a child and future success. I tagged my brother with the comment that this was the explanation for our current success as adults.
(We had piano lessons as children.)
His response was "I didn't know Alex took piano lessons."
See what he did there?
My "success" is really just because I married someone successful?
It stings a bit because this is something I have been thinking about a lot lately.
I am a great Mom. It's important. It works well for our family.
Yada, yada, yada.
It's what I chose and what I want. Childcare and extra chaos for four so I can go work at the eye doctor's office?
(Let's pretend she really did offer me a job.)
No thank you.
Did anyone else read this recent article, "Having It All Kinda Sucks?"
That's totally how I think my life would be, plus two more kids. I don't want it.
Great for some, not for me.
Maybe that's why I keep writing here about my daughter's destruction of my wedding album and how I can't keep my calendar straight?
My kids are my success, but they can't be all of it.
Currently, it's my personal success every time I fill out a form, actually make it to something on time (or at all), and every time I finish writing something good or bad because it's really freakin' hard to do with four kids.
For right now I have no choice but to focus on doing this every day stuff well, finding my successes here.
Please watch the following video on how successful I am at the following; comedy, silly words, nutrition, cute baby chairs, film, and child choking safety.
And I killed it on getting Max's vision checked. It took me 7 years to discover and rectify Cole's eye problems, but Max I have taken care of in less than 13 months.
Like a BOSS.
|His actual glasses are blue-grey and won't be here for another week.|
*I actually didn't ever study the eye in college. But I totally could have.**
**Probably not. That ophthalmologist was really, really smart and it sounded really boring.