Supporting you in motherhood, one little blog post at a time
This is T.Puzzle the morning after his second eye surgery playing calmly with his brother:
As you can tell, it’s a super easy to keep him calm and collected as his eyes are healing. And Full Speed really does his part to keep T.Puzzle calm, too.
If you ever need tips on how to quiet down the chaos in your life, clearly I am your guru on such matters.
You’re welcome.
T.Puzzle came through his second surgery and all looks well with both his eyes. The doc checked the first eye while he was under and it appears his prescription improved a couple diopters (yay!). She also said that as he grows his prescription may improve even more. Imagine that! More good news about my child and/or children and their vision. We’ve come along way from ‘legally blind‘ and ‘your baby’s vision is worse than his brother’s’ type of information sharing with medical professionals. Hooray!
The overall surgery experience was much like I expected. He was absolutely miserable during the eye drop portion (as was I) and he woke up madder than a hornet’s nest from anesthesia. Nothing a solid nap (for Mommy, too!) and Cheerios couldn’t solve.
He is so brave.
Love you, T.Puzzle!
This week is still not so good. I think it has less to do with my daily circumstances and more to do with the dark cloud of eye surgery hanging over T.Puzzle’s head. I know the surgery is technically minor. I know that his physical pain will be minimal, his psychic pain to be great, that holding him down for 12 eye drops in one eye to be my own personal nightmare and that T.Puzzle coming out of anesthesia can be likened to an angry bear awoken too soon from hibernation. Aside from all that there is an expectation of hopefully improved vision for T.Puzzle, gratitude that there is someone in the world like Mad Dog to hold my hand through it all, and the life experience to know that whatever comes my way I will handle it.
Seriously, if I gave birth to two rambunctious dudes like Full Speed and T.Puzzle, I have to have at least a small percentage of tenacity in me, right? Even if I only have a fraction of theirs, I’m going to be just fine (and so will they).
You can count on it.
How many times can an overly active five year old boy pop the lense out of his glasses??
To infinity and beyond.
After the 137th lense pop it was time for a change.
Our optical technician has now used industrial strength glue to hold the lense in place. Our other option was to doggedly pursue the possibility of rec specs for Full Speed. Rec specs are essentially safety glasses that should hold up better during karate sparring and soccer (in theory).
The issue with rec specs is Full Speed’s extremely specialized lense prescription.
The solution? Rec specs that are high-powered yet not as specialized. All parties involved (eye doctor, optician, crazed Mommy and matter-of-fact Dad) said let’s give it shot.
Here is the result:
I’m sorry, but have you ever seen anything more insanely adorable than that?
Then again, check out T.Puzzle’s enthusiasm about Full Speed’s rec specs. He didn’t know why we were celebrating but he was more than happy to jump in the fun:
A good afternoon, indeed!
Being stuck at home for 11 straight hours with two active boys is a mother’s form of Chinese water torture. Full Speed has his second day of kindergarten off (very anticlimactic in my opinion) as the remainder of his classmates report for their first day. T.Puzzle has been home since his lense removal surgery well over a week ago. It’s a lot of togetherness when you aren’t able to leave the house as we wait for T.Puzzle’s eye to heal. The kicker is, once that eye is mostly healed, it will be time for surgery on the other one.
Honestly, for the most part, T.Puzzle’s recovery time at home as been kind of special and sweet. He loves being an ‘only child’ if even for only a few hours. It’s just the endless playing of the trains that is starting to wear on me.
Just a little.
Then, to have them both tethered to home on the same day by myself for hours on end, that’s enough to make anyone lose it.
Just a little.
They are good boys. They just reach their threshold of contained inactivity and they have to break through it. We could be sitting watching a movie and before I know it they are both leaping head first off the couch attempting aerial kicks and shouting as loud as they possibly can.
It’s very soothing.
Well, I gotta run, I need to perfect my aerial kick.