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My Baby Needs Glasses

October 8, 2012
My Baby Needs Glasses

I have sort of been avoiding the inevitable. My baby needs glasses. She is three and I had started to notice signs.

My Baby Needs Glasses

Daddy, are you over there taking my picture? Where are you, Daddy?

Squinting eyes.

Please tell me you have family snap shots like this, where no one is actually looking, but you all made it in the frame! I am not sure what is more distracting here, my baby doing the wiggle-worm dance in my lap or the lady with the enormous bun in the background…

My Baby Needs Glasses

Much too close to the T.V.

I know all kids stand close to the T.V., but come’on.

Look at those cute little tootsies hanging off the end though. So glad I get to be the mommy to kiss and tickle them. After bath time, of course. No toe jam on these lips, buddy.

My Baby Needs Glasses

Yes, this sweet little kanoodle, that loves to snuggle with her daddy in the wee hours of the morning needs glasses.


Getting a prescription was quite an ordeal because it entailed the usual rush out the door with a toddler and baby. Ill prepared, I forgot the stroller, snacks, and toys. Sheesh. What kind of mother am I? You would think this was my first rodeo with how ill-prepared I was!

We made it through the appointment, a dialation, and another appointment. Prescription in hand, I wanted to cry. Not because it was that big of a deal that my baby was going to have to wear glasses all of the time, but because she has probably needed glasses for a while, and that this may be something she struggles with for the rest of her life. Wearing glasses, per se, is not a “struggle,” but progressive myopia can be, which is what her mother dearest has. This basically means that my eyes have progressively gotten worse every year of my life and are to the point that most contacts really will not completely correct my vision. In addition, I am not a great candidate for surgery because of how extreme my near-sightedness is.  Without going into the nitty gritty of my eye history. I felt bad. I felt bad that she even had a fraction of this gene from me, but what could I do?

She was already standing at the rows of children’s frames and trying each pair on with natural excitement, bless her heart! At this point it was late in the afternoon and Sephina (almost 1 year old) was hungry and fussy, so it was time to get food not pick out glasses. So, I stuffed her written prescription in my diaper bag with my wallet, paid for our exam, and headed out.

I knew we needed to hit up a drive through because both of the girls were going to fall asleep on the five minute drive home! As we approach the order line, Onika begins yelling from the back seat, “I want cheese pizza, chicken nuggets, and a cheeseburger, Mama. Oh, oh, oh, and Mama, I want chocolate milk, Mama! Don’t forget the chocolate milk! Oh, and Mama, I want apple slices, do they have apple slices, Mama!?!”

We are a healthy family. We never order drive through! Ah hum…

Anyway, I place the order for our regret-it-later-gut-rot lunch, pull up a bit and then turn for my wallet. That dumb wallet has been the bain of my existence! See The Wallet Saga for details. It is located in the diaper bag on the other side of the car seat and van; completely out of reach! Ugh! What procedes to happen after this is so ridiculous, I almost wish I had it on video tape because I am sure it would have won America’s Funniest Home Videos.

I hit the handy little button in my sweet MV (minivan) that so conveniently propels the side door open. I do my little jog around the backside of my sweet MV to retrieve the wallet, when I see pretty pieces of white paper fluttering everywhere from my toes to Timbuktu. Hmm…that’s pretty, I oddly think to myself. I wonder where it is coming from?

One of the pretty little pieces of white paper looks strangely familiar. EEEEEEK!!! Those aren’t pretty pieces of white paper fluttering, those are my receipts, my daughter’s new prescription, and my CREDIT CARDS jetting out of sight!!!

Apparently, I had placed the diaper bag just close enough to the door that when the door opened it fell out, exposing everything in my wallet, which was so cram-packed that it would not button shut so all of it’s contents were released to the wild autumn winds.

I think I did actually scream at this point, some pathetic gasp of horror, as I whipped my hair out of my face and did a one-eighty in hot persuit of my credit cards! The three cars behind me are all backed up on my behalf as they watch me flounder in the wind to retrieve my belongings. Oh, let’s not forget that I was wearing my oh-so-cute leather cowgirl boots that have absolutely no traction whatsoever on them, which I realized as I tried to pull the step-on-the-receipt-to-stop-it-from-blowing-away move and felt myself go down in slow motion splits!

For pitty’s sake. Only me. Yes, I did the flippin’ splits, which is so not covered in yoga these days! I completely ignored the pain, of course, and quickly retracted myself back to an upright position, in hopes that maybe no one saw what just happened. AS IF NO ONE SAW WHAT JUST HAPPENED!! Of course they saw! I looked up to see shaking shoulders in the car behind me.

Well, I am certainly glad I could bring the world some amusement today.

Upon retrieving, what appeared to be, all of my belongings. I tried to compose myself behind the closed door of my sweet MV. As I pulled up to pay for my butt-just-got-bigger lunch, it was clear that composure was not attainable, as I found myself laughing so hard that I couldn’t even communicate with the clerk behind the cha-ching counter.

Thank goodness I will never see those people again! At least until tomorrow’s chronicles when I run into them at the grocery store with a boogy hanging out and spinach between my teeth!

Well, these are the sort of things, moments, and experiences that make up this little thing I call life. What a wild thing it is, indeed. Even spastic at times, in my case.

So, my baby needs glasses and I did the splits while rescuing my credit cards. Whew, glad I could live to tell you about it.

I’m off to do one hundred butt crunches to work off that lunch that was so not worth it.


Mama Magpie





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