Coming Soon - Maddie's New Look

Yep. Maddie Mae needs glasses. At least I didn't cry this time like I did when Ben needed them. When the doctor told me he would need glasses, I cried a deep, bottom of your soul, broken heart sort of cry for a couple nights in a row. Sadness consumed my thoughts. It was mostly because I feared for him. I was teased about my glasses and they were a large ingredient in my self esteem issues and they fed the ever present depression I struggled with as a child and adolescent. I just didn't want any of that for him. My heart broke because I want him to be happy. To feel good inside and out. To never be teased or put down for something he can't change. I want him to have a picture perfect life I guess. I didn't cry over Maddie Mae. It wasn't because I love her less. It still hurt. I still don't like it. I still want her perfect little baby face to be unblemished by signs of imperfection. I just was more prepared to accept it with a stiff upper lip I guess. I still gaze at her gorgeous profile and mourn the loss of it that is soon to come.

We went to the eye doctor last week for a Maddie check. I hadn't had any real signs she might need glasses, but I didn't really feel like there were signs with Ben until about a month or two before he got them. Then, I didn't want to see the signs I kind of knew I was noticing. He just seemed to get more clumsy. Since the visit only cost us $5 after insurance, I figured we ought to get Maddie checked in time to budget glasses if we needed to buy them next year with our flex spending and it's almost time to pick that magic number for 2010. If we did have trouble, I didn't want to wait another year until her pediatrician told me I had to go see an eye doctor.

Since Ben already has glasses and she always wants to have some too, I figured it would be an easy appointment. I worked for days to get her all excited about it. The morning of the appointment we played the spoon game, covering one eye and telling what we can see with the other. We guessed what color the doctors spoon would be. Turns out it was white. Once we got there, I had to do the paperwork. In the 60 seconds it took me to write her name and birthday on the paper she clammed up completely. Not good. She crawled under my chair. I had zero success at coercing her out happily.

When we went in the exam room, there was NO WAY she was sitting in the chair with or without me. For almost fifteen minutes she laid on the floor. Neither of us could get her to look in the magic glasses to see the floating butterfly or anything else. It was so frustrating. Then the office phone rang. The doc is a one man show. No secretary or anything, so I told him he might as well answer. He said he'd give us a minute to see if I could make any progress. The instant the exam room door clicked shut she perked up. Like we flipped on the happy switch.

Maddie started asking what is this and what is that and how many phones does the doctor have and what does that button do. After a few calm minutes I probed what was wrong with the big chair if she sat on my lap. I told her how she always makes good choices and this one could be a good choice too if she let the doctor see her pretty eyes. She got sad and looked at the floor as she explained that she makes bad choices and it makes mommy sad. I reasurred that she was a good girl and made good choices. She corrected me, "No I don't! I poop in my diaper." After some heart to heart talking I realized that she was feeling bad about herself because she poops in her diaper and it makes mommy sad. I asked if she wanted to poop in her diaper right now. She looked up and told me with a huge smile, "Yes!" I granted permission. She didn't actually do it, but knowing she could totally changed her mood. No problems the rest of the visit. I also promised her lollipops if she cooperated. As far as the doctor knows, that did the trick. I didn't know exactly how to explain the real root cause of her trouble. That was just a little bit too weird for me.

After a few minutes of looking in her eyes I was dying to know what he was finding. Is it okay? Are her eyes perfect? No glasses, right? I had a zillion questions running through my head. It took every ounce of self restraint to not ask what he was finding as he was examining her. I was only able to hold my tongue in fear of freaking Maddie out or distracting her from looking where he needed her to look and having the whole thing blow up in my face. Eventually, it was obvious to me, even through the iron curtain of denial I was facing in my heart. If her eyes were fine, he would have finished his inspections a long time ago. We had a problem. Finally, after eons of time, he confirmed, "Well, she has the Zufelt eyes." My reply was simple. "No. She has Robinson eyes. Zufelt eyes are better than perfect."

He did his best guess at a prescription based on her reasonable cooperativity. Then we picked frames. Of course she wanted the pink ones. Her little head is so small they don't have them in both pink AND bendy, indestructable, fold them in half then drive over them with a diesel truck style of frames more appropriate for the barely three year old that she is. Oh well. We got her a nice little pair all written up. I'll order them first of January. She is pretty excited. For now, she can wear the super stylish ones I made her of pipe cleaners in the picture. They make her pretty happy too. I'm sure there is a pink pair of glasses in our future not too many years down the road.