Reminders

"Blindness separates us from things but deafness separates us from people." - Helen Keller

I will never seek pity for having a child with a disability. I have many, many times thanked God for bringing Piper into our lives. She is incredible. I often forget exactly how incredible she is. Days like today, with equipment failure and lost parts and insurance company red tape, remind me.

Piper works ten times harder than most just to get through her daily routine, but she does it. Because her disability is practically invisible, I take her hard work for granted. I'm not proud to say that I lose my patience with her when she asks me to repeat something over and over. I get frustrated when she stubbornly refuses to follow sign language and we can't communicate. I struggle to parent a child who is so in tune with facial expressions, that she mis-reacts to my words because I don't match my body language with my feelings. No wonder she gets frustrated too - she has to deal with me!

Piper is beautiful, smart, sensitive, funny and generally amazing. I love her exactly the way she is. Just some of the things I love about Piper: her laugh, her gray eyes that look just like her Grandma Sally, the way she sniffs her blanket to fall asleep, her big heart, her love of all things cats, watching her read and the excitement she feels at getting new books from the library, the way she snuggles on the couch with me to watch t.v., and the fact that she's my only daughter! I'm WAY more blessed to be her mom than she is to be my daughter.

kindergarten

I am officially a Gleek. I like to check out new t.v. series for a while before making an official fan announcement and that time has come. I love Glee. :) Oh, my poor DVR with yet another show to record that allows me to skip all advertising and commercials.

I took Ryder for his kindergarten screening today and I could tell he was already annoyed by the fact that when we walked in the school and a few steps into the door, 3 people said "Hi Tanya!" The secretary said to him "You must be Piper's brother." (insert here: eye roll, followed by heavy sigh and slight head nod). He was no less pleased when he returned from his screening with the teacher, who I immediately pointed out was both Wyatt & Piper's kindergarten teacher (shout out Miss Lydic! You will always hold a special spot in our hearts!!). He again rolled his eyes and said "I know. She already told me that." Ahhhh.... such is the life of a little brother.

Miss Lydic did say "He's your comedian, huh?" Hmmm.... Surprise, surprise that it took someone 25 minutes with him to figure that out! She said that for part of the test, he was to repeat sentences verbatim. She would say, "My house is blue." He would say, "My house is blue. But, not really, my house is green with white around the windows."

Isn't it some kind of major life stage when your youngest goes to kindergarten? There should be a support group for this. "Hello, my name is Tanya. I am no longer a mother of small children." I like little kids. Big kids, over the age of, say, 6, start becoming strange, mouthy, non-compliant beings. You can no longer laughingly blame these characteristics on being a two year old. Oh, how my heart aches for just a little more little kid.

More than any of that though, I can't stand the thought of my children outgrowing me faster than I'm outgrowing them.

Overheard this week at our house:
Piper: I just don't understand why you always want me to dress like a girl!

Welcome Spring

Spring is my least favorite time of year. I know that likely puts me in the minority, since most people are enjoying the warmer weather and things blooming. I think I used to like spring... but my grown-upness has stolen that springtime fondness from me.

My birthday is in the spring, which used to be a big deal BUT these are the types of deals I'd rather not think about any more.

It rains a lot in the spring and I love thunderstorms and the smell of rain BUT now rain means a muddy dog, muddy shoes/clothes and undone hair.

I love open windows BUT that means more dust in the house (and in step with the previous statement = more cleaning) and it means these stinking chirping birds that sit outside my window and start chirping at 4:45a.m. Seriously, 4:45a.m.? The sun isn't even up yet.

Flowers and trees and plants grow in the spring BUT that means a miserable child. Wy can't handle the blooming spring. He's miserable every year with allergies, sinus stuff and asthma attacks. In fact, he's currently on antibiotics for a sinus infection and ear infection, which is quickly draining into his chest and causing breathing difficulties.

So, welcome spring, but don't let the door hit you in the butt on the way toward my 2nd least favorite season - summer. ick.

Overheard this week at our house:
Ryder: Mom, I'd trust you to cut my hair, even if no one else likes you.

It's Friday!

It's finally a cool, crisp morning and I love it.

Tomorrow marks 6 weeks until we leave for Zambia. Wow. I have so much to prepare, including my heart.

The potential summer sitter comes tomorrow for a trial run/introduction to the kids.

Took my kids and Keegan to a movie last night and it was really good. How To Train Your Dragon is a worthy 1 1/2 hours. Favorite character names: the twins Tuffnut and Ruffnut. hah.

Our family photos are in & I get to pick them up tonight! Too bad I don't have a new wall in a new house to display them.

Duran Duran is on the radio right now.

Overheard at our house:
Ryder singing Devil Went Down to Georgia in the bathroom while getting ready for preschool.

What makes Papa the best?

This does:

He taught me and now he taught my baby! (And, yes, I do realize that I shouldn't be calling him a baby when he's over 4 feet tall, 5 years old and can ride without training wheels, but I'm gonna, so there.)

And, a better quality video taken an hour later by Grammy's good camera :)

This is one of the many reasons I love my dad...

Pax

Crazy Dog left last night. He's left on his own before, several times. Most days, it's a chore to get him outside to do his thing and eat. But, every so unpredictable often, he'll bolt out the door, through the gate and be gone. When he first began leaving last year, he'd go for ten minutes or so. That began to stretch up to an hour, but not usually any longer. He hadn't left in a while until 2 weeks ago. He left at bedtime and was at the door when we woke up next morning. Today was different though - he wasn't at the door this morning. He left behind his collar, which while not unusual - he hates it and takes it off whenever he can manage - seems to add this air of finality to his life here.

I don't know if he's coming back and I have mixed emotions about it. I am relieved because his dementia exhausts me - cleaning up daily messes and damage, listening to horrific yowling/whining/crying episodes, giving him medication twice a day every day and generally trying to handle him. I am sad because I love him. I want him to be safe. I want him to be happy. I'm sorry we couldn't do that for him.

Freaking awesome!

So I'm sitting here, in front of a computer, with no corrective lenses in or on my eyes for the first time in nearly 30 years. Words can't even begin to describe what it feels like... One day ago, I was legally blind without my glasses - 20/200 in my right eye and 20/100 in my left.

Yesterday I had my hyperopia and astigmatism surgically corrected in a 20 minute procedure. Amazing. All of my fears listed in my previous post, were completely unnecessary it turns out (even going out without makeup and my hair did turned out okay). It was one of the easiest things I've ever done.

Todd & I arrived at 8:15 and I paid for the procedure. Slight moment of panic right off the bat, since I completely forgot that our debit card has a $500 per day limit. DECLINE. Thankfully I was able to write a check! They took me back for a quick re-check/verification of my prescription and one final uncorrected eye test. Legally blind in my right eye and just slightly better in my left.

They took my into a waiting room where I had to re-read through all the risks and potential complications and sign away my visual future. Then came the Valium. Ahhh... sweet relief. I wasn't nearly as nervous as I thought I would be, but the Valium certainly helped take the edge off. I got 3 doses of antibiotic eye drops and a pleasant conversation with the doctor's assistant. After about 15 minutes there, I was escorted into the surgical suite. It was freezing in there, but they covered me up with a blanket and adjusted my head into the headrest, which wasn't nearly as deep as I previously feared. I got a stuffed bunny to hold onto which was weird at first but nice to have my hands occupied. Todd settled in right outside the surgical suite watching through a window with a monitor showing him everything they were doing. I wish I would have had him video it so I could see it - dang it.

They cleaned my eyelids with betadine and turned the lights down. My fabulous doc came in (shout out Dr. Yannis Kolettis - you rock!!) and he taped my eyelashes out of the way. Retractor and numbing drops went in and from there it was just a series of mini laser light shows for me to stare at. I knew when he had removed the flap of my cornea because things went from really blurry to completely foggy and hazy. Most of the time it was all black with just a ton of tiny red dots in my peripheral vision (from the pressure against my eyeball) and blinking blue, red & green lights directly in front of me. At one point my vision went completely black, but Dr. YK was talking me through it and I was talking with him too. I could see his hands coming toward my eyes once in a while but I was numb so I had no idea when he was actually touching my eyeball. I mean, there was really nothing to it. Oh, it did smell bad when my eyeball was being burned away, but that didn't last long. :)

When they sat me up and turned up the lights, I became a big ball of blubber as I realized I could see posters and the clock on the wall. The assistants said "Don't cry! You'll wash out all the medicine!" I just couldn't help it. I bawled with the realization that even this hazy, foggy vision was light years beyond what I'd ever been able to see before. It was emotionally overwhelming and I'm still feeling that way today.

Quick check by the doc and I was sent home with orders to keep my eyes closed all the way. I got home, took a sleeping pill, put on my sexy sleeping goggles and laid down. They wanted me to sleep a lot at first as the eyes heal faster when they're closed. Remember when I said EVERYTHING pharmaceutical makes me tired? Well apparently that's everything except sleeping pills! I dozed for about 3 hours and woke up. Took my next dose of eye drops (1 antibiotic and 1 anti-inflammatory 4 times daily for a week) and did some laundry. I watched some t.v., ate some dinner, and just generally hung out. I'm also using wetting drops every 30 minutes for 2 more weeks and they're more of an annoyance than anything else. My eyes weren't sore but I did have a slight headache, which I still have today. However, I'd say no pain whatsoever, from the start. I took another sleeping pill and went back to bed about 10:00 and low and behold I was wide awake at 1:30a.m. I watched t.v. for about 2 hours and fell back to sleep. I woke up this morning & tried to put my glasses on - hard habit to break.

I drove myself to my follow up appointment this morning because I felt fine. Dr. YK said I was doing much better than he would have ever anticipated considering the amount of correction I had done. AND, in less than 24 hours after surgery, my right eye was at 20/20 and my left eye was at 20/15. Dr. YK said "You've got what we expect to see after 2-4 weeks coming right out of the gate. You are doing freaking awesome!" I said "I feel pretty freaking awesome." I think he's pretty freaking awesome too, but I just said "thank you SO much."

Follow up in 2 weeks, with just a few restrictions, like sleeping in goggles for 2 more days, no eye makeup for another week, no eye rubbing for 2 months, and no saunas, jet skiing, or swimming for 2 more weeks - which might really put a damper on my social life - hah! Worth it I tell you - I can't even describe how worth it.

Last photo with glasses.

















Surgery done - on the way home.














Rocking the sleep goggles before nap - G'Night.














The drugs.

Slight after effects.