Done. Forever.

In August, Anderson had an eye visit with Dr.Cogen and we learned that he is officially done with patching FOREVER. These were obviously pretty life-changing words. For 8 years I anticipated what I would say in a blog post when we were finally done to capture the excitement, the celebration, the relief. When the day finally arrived and I reflected back on our journey, I realized I was just not in the place to feel those emotions. Thinking about where we were when we started patching and then where we are now honestly made sad & disappointed. Jack was not here to celebrate with us-yet another milestone that my kids were robbed of from losing their JPa. And, relief? Well, I am not sure I will ever have that feeling again because now I know that things are never settled, complete or finally ok. Losing Levi in June altered all established feelings and the new me is still constantly trying to adjust to emotions on a daily basis. I just did not really feel celebratory in August and did not have it in me to do a blog post about this. 

Now, it is January and I still am reeling over what has changed in the last 9 years, but it is only fitting that I reflect on this journey that has defined our lives in so many ways.

 I am truly grateful for this part of our lives; this cataract journey has taught me more about parenting and perseverance than anything else in my life. Very early in our patching lifetime, I talked to another cataract mom on the phone. Her son was 10 & she told me, now that her patching time was over, she would do it all again. I remember crying (the phone was muted) as I tried to figure out WHY on earth she would choose this added challenge to the already difficult job of parenting and now I understand. The last 9 years-the worry, the struggle, the challenges, the hard-earned victories, the perspective, the planning, the support from so many-have shaped our family and I would not change who we are now. 

I look at Anderson and SO much more makes sense to me. I want to go back in time and tell me of 9 years ago a few things about Anderson:

1. He does NOT need sleep. Quit reading the books and the articles and listening to other moms with kids who actually need sleep. Right now you are trying to lock him in his room at night and do a million things to make him tired because you are so confused WHY he has to patch EVERY waking hour and he somehow has MORE waking hours than every other kid his age. Quit fighting it and accept your fate. This kid does not need sleep. And, it will pay off one day. His intensity and never-ending energy will earn him MVP trophies and an invite to the "Gifted & Talented" group at school. He will be curious and interested in everything because he will have lived twice as many hours as other kids his age. When he is 4, he will be upset that superheroes don't wear glasses and you will get the chance to teach him about the truest superhero of all-Harry. Even though you would choose the sleep, there is a purpose for this madness. Keep drinking the coffee.  

2. Noni & GG will make this ok. Noni will make patching fun and rescue you on days when you cannot keep the patch going. Her ability to persevere through challenges is in your blood and you will make it. GG will show up with toys & de-skunking tricks (also, do not let Gabbi out of her leash the day you leave for his surgery) and extra patches. 

3.  Order thousands of more patches than you think you will actually need. There will be ONE day over the years that he keeps the same one on an entire day. You will never forget that day. 

4. There are so many worse things that can happen. Drowning happens in seconds. This is the one thing I want to SCREAM when I see any picture prior to June 10. 

I have 54 blog posts dedicated to his cataract. I am recapping a few of the milestones here:

First patch ever. 

This was before we knew how to put it on, what kind to use, how to prevent irritation by drying milk of magnesia on his skin first, how to take it off (from the inside out) and how many we would go through over the years. 

After his surgery in Birmingham. 

Our family lived in Birmingham during all of our visits; Hughes was LITERALLY in the OR during his surgery; Sherri got us in with the best doctor; we really have had so many things in our favor. 

First pic in glasses. 

Unlike the patch, the glasses were never really a problem. I think he realized he could see better with them on, so he did not fight them. We still have that first pair of glasses & hang them on our Christmas tree every year. 

Hiding from me to avoid being patched. 

THIS sums up the last 9 years more than anything. He HATED wearing his patch. We had to fight him to keep it on all of the time. I shudder thinking about patching a toddler. NOTHING else on this parenting journey has been as challenging as that. 

He put his patch on by himself. 

This was rare, but I remember being SO proud of him. 

FOUR HOURS OFF!

This appointment was, without a doubt, the turning point. We gradually went from zero minutes off to FOUR HOURS off. Tears were definitely shed at this appointment (all appointments, really.) Even with taking out the minutes for bathtime, the minutes between the patch being ripped off and a new one applied and the minutes before he fell asleep at night left, 4 hours off gave us time to PLAY and LIVE without stressing over seconds. Patching still consumed our lives because 12 hours of patching is still A LOT, but this was a game changer to surviving the journey. (Also, shout out to Jack Brimer!)

Self Portrait from school.

I was on the verge of tears when I saw this at pre-school a few years ago. When your tiny kid wears glasses, you worry about how he will be viewed by others, if they will define him and whether or not he will be made fun of or teased. Seeing this made me realize his eye DOES define him and he realizes that, too and this is a GOOD thing. I still have this in a frame. 

Getting ready for one of his interviews. 

Success looks like a lot of things, but it FOR SURE looks like being asked to represent pediatric patients in UAB videos. 

Football. 

At his first appointment, when he is one year old, Dr. Cogen told us that he cannot play tackle football past middle school. We blew it off because that was so trivial; he will probably not even like football, we thought! HA HA HA HA HA. Anderson is more obsessed with football than any person I have ever met &, in some ironic twist, he actually excels at it. Stay tuned as we see how this plays out. 

First blog post about his eye: 12/12/10

Now, on to the last visit:

His appointment was in August and I could not take off, so Brandon drove him there and FACETIMEd me in for the visit. 

I am always SO, SO nervous during the checking part. Dr. Cogen is so smooth and never makes any kind of indication of what he sees. 

Right here....my service cut out. I missed the part where he said "DONE PATCHING FOREVER!" Knowing Dr. Cogen, he probably did not scream it like that, but I sure did when I heard!

I bought some balloons in the colors of West Point to celebrate!

And, Brandon immediately made a crossbow to pop all of them. Good times. 

A screen shot of the moment. 

We are not "done" with his eye journey. He still has an implant lens, chances for all kind of issues with his vision and visits to Dr. Cogen. He will most likely not be able to play the sport he loves for much longer; he will NEVER have perfect vision, even with glasses or contacts. His eyes will always be 2 different colors, which is something he loves. We will always be so proud and so thankful for this journey that shaped our family. I will also always flinch a little when I hear the word "patch."

Our 978th Eye Appointment

To be fair, I am honestly not sure of the number because I stopped counting a long time ago, but 978 seems a bit appropriate. And, I say that in a positive way because you know that we LOVE our appointments. What is not to love about hanging out with our family and getting feedback on our third child, Anderson's left eye?

You know that Anderson promptly settled in to watch some football with Big Cousin Noah.

Sidenote: Noah is in COLLEGE. Officially. He is officially in college and I think this was actually his first visit home. I do not even understand how this has happened, but I love that we were able to see him and hear about his classes. 

There was also some swimming, of course. 

At his actual appointment, we found out these things: 

1. His vision in his left eye is 20/25 which is UNHEARD OF IN A CATARACT EYE. The average corrected vision is 20/200 so I do not even know what is happening right now* except that I should clearly never ever complain about anything ever again. 

*The last 7 years of patching is what is happening right now. 

2. He gets new glasses WITHOUT the bifocal. For the first time in over 7 years, he will stop hearing from other kids that his glasses are "broken" because there is a crack in them. Also, and this is life changing, we do not have to drive downtown to get his glasses! I literally just added 17 hours a month to my life AND raised my sanity level 2 points. 

3. We can possibly stop patching at his next appointment. I cannot talk about this one now because I do not have words. 

4. We should not have let Anderson stay up until midnight to watch the VOLS go into overtime because he was yawning during his movie debut. 

On that note....we were asked by UAB Media department a few months ago if they could film part of Anderson's appointment and then interview us about our experience. 

I would give Dr. Cogen my right arm if he asked me for it, so you know that I immediately said yes and then thrust Brandon into the actual interview once it actually happened. 

Anderson did an awesome job and explained his cataract journey and I was so proud of him and, as always, so grateful that we have ended up in those seats because it means that our baby can see. 

An Accidental Gift.

A few years ago  I was reading Sonia Sotomayor's autobiography, My Beloved World, and a phrase literally jumped off of the page into my entire being. In reference to the positive effect of her Type I diabetes diagnosis as a child, she coined a phrase that managed to capture Anderson's eye journey in two words.  

Accidental Gift. 

She went on to explain how her diagnosis and self care shaped her personality in so many ways, ultimately leading to her place as the first Latino & 3rd woman appointed to the Supreme Court. I re-read that page over and over, processing what she was telling me, applying it to our journey and absolutely reveling in the fact that WE ARE SO LUCKY. So lucky because, and I cannot believe I am saying this, Anderson's eye journey has been a gift. What I have learned about parenting, sacrifice, challenges and WINNING over the last 6 years cannot be described in any other way except as a gift. I mean, hear me correctly, my kid was basically blind and still has a chance that this whole thing can go downhill really fast. Also, the one thing he lives for-football-might be out of his reach due to his eye. But, ultimately, he might be the absolute best kid I have ever met and, in so many ways, I credit his strengths to this eye journey. 

Anderson is amazing (Also, exhausting....) in so many ways, but a few of the personality traits that stand out to me are his curiosity and his drive, both of which I credit to his accidental gift. He is in the highest reading group at his school out of all of the reading groups in the grade. In fact, there are only 6 kids in all of 1st grade who qualify for this group. Also, he is SO into Math (I blame Brandon) that his teacher gives him a bunch of enrichment word problems every day to work on when he finishes his work. He questions everything and I credit his eyepatch because, as it turns out, when you have to be distracted for 16 hours a day the first 3 years of your life, you end up pretty interested in things.

Second, his drive is a very real thing. His competitiveness absolutely defines everything he does and while he does get a pretty significant part of it honestly, I credit his eye journey for the rest of it. He always has to work just a little bit harder than the average 6 year old because he cannot see equally out of his eyes, his left eye does not adjust from far away to close up, there is a shadow off his fake  lens that blocks part of his vision and he has spent more of his life in a patch with access to one eye than not. This gift was very evident to me during his recent football season. Because of his love/obsession for football, he understands the game. This, combined with his competitive drive, made him a beast at flag football. (I realize I am bragging on my kid, but it is my blog and we have spent 6 years patching so I can focus on the positives if I want. Thanks. ) He was so good that parents complained & his coach was told to take him out of the game once he scored (he scored multiple times a game) and to only give him the ball on 4th downs. 

Needless to say, I was pissed. 

Do not even get me started on how LIFE IS A COMPETITION & you cannot choose to have your competitor sit out until you can catch up. But, my real anger was that all of this resentment and the weird rules were directed at the "kid in the rec specs." THE ONLY KID IN THE REC SPECS! Did anyone ever stop & ask WHY he was in rec specs? (No. The answer is no.) It was when this all went down that I realized how PROUD I was of this kid. When he wanted to play football we told him that he was going to have to work harder than other kids because he would not really have peripheral vision & the rec specs would prevent him from seeing as clearly. So, he practiced. And practiced. And practiced. And, he became really good for a 6 year old. Watching his hard work pay off made me so proud of him and so grateful that he had something to overcome. 

It looks like this brings us up to the point of the post-our recent eye visit. 

I cannot believe how tiny he used to be in that chair. 

There are always so many minutes to fill waiting for the drops, for the drops to dilate and for the appointment itself. I think they were playing some kind of number guessing game here. 

Dr. Cogen came in and asked, "How is my star patient?" I might as well have just started crying right then instead of saving it up for later. 

We found out these truths:

-The average corrected vision for a patient with a congenital, pediatric, monocular cataract is 20/200. Anderson is 20/25. This is basically unheard of in eye world. *Insert hysterical sobbing....

-There is "very little chance" that this will fail now. 

-We only have to patch 4 hours a week. I REPEAT we are NOW IN PARADISE. 

-He is, and will continue to be, normal. 

-Dr. Cogen will actually allow multiple hugs from his patient's mom each and every visit. 

-He cannot play football because of the tackling, but he CAN be a kicker! HE CAN BE A KICKER ON A FOOTBALL TEAM! 

-Dr. Cogen is saving this spot on the wall for Anderson's autographed picture when he is a famous kicker. 

I cannot even believe that we are at this point. This has been a 6 year journey.  SIX YEARS! I never, ever would have imagined we would be here. In fact, I remember a conversation I had with another mom 6 years ago. We were going through a particularly rough patch with the patching (ha ha ha) and Dr. Cogen gave me the # of a veteran cataract mom to call. Her son was about 11 or so and I remember muting the phone because I did not want her to hear me sobbing as she said exactly how I was feeling. It was so reassuring to finally talk to someone who had actually lived it. Then she said, "You know, if we could do it over again, I would not change it. The journey has shaped our family." I was so confused and did not understand. Now, 6 years later, I understand and I am grateful. 

Because we are VIP (Thanks to the Hills) we get extra credit. I was going on & on about how amazing Dr. Cogen is and our cousin texted him about it and this was his reply. 

Six years down. We've got this. 

Eye visit

In March we went to Anderson's eye appt in Alabama. 

There is just so much that happens during those appointments, yet I don't have any pictures. I got a new phone and I didn't have the Harry Potter moving filter (or whatever it is called) turned off and I cannot load the pics, so these are the few I salvaged. 

Due to a training at work, Brandon had to miss an appt for the first time in about 5 years. 

But, thanks to the amazing technology that is Face Time, we still managed to be together during the entire appointment. 

Anderson was so good. I was so nervous. Dr. Cogen was so amazing. 

These are pretty much all normal occurrences every visit. Well, they are normal at this point-5 years into our journey, which means patience and time for the win. 

We found out....Anderson is awesome; the patch is working. His eye is growing into the implant just like it is supposed to be, his prescription has decreased again AND....we get another day off of the patch!

WHO ARE WE?? WHAT HAS HAPPENED?? 

It has been almost 5 1/2 years of the eye journey and I am at the point where I can do an EYE post with only 2 pics and very few updates. I like it. 

To keep in theme with our vacation parenting that we are now doing with so few days of patching, the boys lived it up in Aunt Manda's awesome new pool! 

A spot on his eye & a bump on his head.

Y'all know that our eye journey has been tough. The patching, the surgery, the glasses, the new glasses, the next new glasses, the PATCHING, the dealing, in general. But, above all of the inconveniences, the struggle has been the deepest with the Worry. This does not surprise anyone because you have probably met my mother and know that our genes with this particular activity are strong.

Above worrying about "Is this even going to work; is he going to see?" is the worry that this will bother him. That he will notice that he is different and it will change him in negative ways at too early of an age. So, when the conversation below happened, there was a moment. A long moment of "STOP WORRYING & LET THIS KID KEEP BEING AWESOME!"

"Mama!" he said, almost breathless, as he ran to me, "Did God make me with a spot on my eye?"

I hesitated in replying because I was not sure how to answer and I am so grateful for those few seconds of wait time because what followed almost made the last 5 year's journey worth it.

"Did God make me with a spot on my eye so I would get to wear glasses like you?"

So much in those few words. First, maybe we are actually teaching him about God, since He was referenced. Whew.

Second, "a spot" on his eye. We have talked in great detail on many occasions about his cataract and what it was and why it had to be removed and why he has to patch, yet he called  it a "spot." Possibly a sign that I need to stop explaining it and just stick with the simple approach.

Third, "get to." Because wearing glasses like Mommy is a prize, didn't you know?


Speaking of the SPOT, we made an earlier visit to Dr. Cogen than we planned because Anderson had been commenting on seeing "bones" in his eye and other things that no imom can ever hear and actually sleep at night.

As it turns out, there were no bones. Or negative news because we are, yet again, winning!

His prescription has decreased, he is seeing better out of his left eye and he is "better than we could have expected" and "way better than average."

AfreakingHEM. Hey there, first doc that we saw. Hear that? The kid who "will never be normal?" Yes, the one who pooped in your office and destroyed a bottle of lotion in your chair? That's the one. Well, he isn't normal. As it turns out he is better than normal.

Our journey is not over, we still have years of patching ahead of us. Dr. Cogen reminded us that Anderson will probably mention not seeing as well out of his left eye because the lens IS fake. That was reassuring but also a very loud reminder that this EYE will never leave us. The spot is gone, but the hole it left will always remain. To be fair, the hole has been gradually filed to the point where we can easily climb out, but we have to dodge it, just the same.

I took zero pics on the trip, but Aunt Manda did get a cute one of these 3 at lunch before we left. Our visits now have to be on Tues because Dr. Cogen doesn't do Mondays or Fridays and driving down after work Monday and coming home Tuesday was not really the best way to start the week, but the news was so worth it.

What was really worth it, was that we left Ferg with Noni & Bop ( & Reese) for our 18 hour adventure to Alabama. It felt like a vacation just traveling with Anderson and we know Max was actually having a vacation so it worked out pretty well.

*Super cute story-when we were at Nicole's during Levi's arrival, Max woke up earlier than Reese. He came up to me, put his hands out and asked in the sweetest voice, " Where Reesie Piece?" It was adorable and proof that you can, in fact, brainwash your kids into calling their cousin the name a of candy.

If he is good at the eye doc (during eye dilation, waiting, answering a million questions, etc) he always gets to pick out a prize. He is not really into a ton of toys but he loves animals and ACMoore has a teacher discount and everything is always on sale, so he got to pick out a new leopard shark. He was SO excited and I know my days of thrilling my kid for $5 are not going to be around forever. That is something I am going to miss!

Flash forward to a few days before the EYE visit and I will tell you a story that I know, without fail, I will be repeating to this Ferg about a million times in his future. 

Anderson ALWAYS wants to hear about "the time he had to go in the ambulance" and "the time he broke his arm." So, part of me is a little relieved that we now have a story for this guy. You know, one less thing. 

I NEVER sit down with my kids when they watch TV. I just don't. They watch very, very tiny amounts of TV (not by my choice) and the few seconds that they are sitting, I am doing the million chores that I need to do but cannot do when Max is pouring water everywhere, destroying ziploc bags or hoarding my makeup to draw on the walls when he can't find the hidden crayons. I know so little that I cannot name a character of a TV show unless it is in the title. Well, because these guys are obsessed with me, they always want me to sit with them. Mom Guilt always kicks in as I tell them, "I will be right back after I fold the clothes/let the dogs out/get your waffles/clean up Max's pee because he lost his diaper again/etc." and I never actually return. 

Well, on this particular Sunday, I was feeling a little giddy because Max had rock starred a nap of ALMOST AN HOUR! Is that even a real thing?? Apparently it is, because happiness abounded for everyone. He asked me to sit with him in the big chair as he watched TV* with Anderson and I did. I gave in and LOOK WHERE IT GOT ME! If my son getting stitches because I gave into Mom Guilt is not proof that God wants Happy Hour to start earlier, than I just do not know what is. I am not sure how I just related that to Happy Hour, but just stick with it. 

*He was watching a "fact" show about animals in the Arctic Sea and this bird literally went underwater to catch a fish. I was actually a little mesmerized and, now, this vision, is all that I will think about when I remember Ferg's stitches. 

But I digress. Back to the story-Max was NOT sitting near me (it's a large chair) and he decided to jump up to join Anderson as he flew across the room. Max missed the flying part and got tangled in his blanket and sort of tumbled off the chair, using the knob thing on our giant coffee table as a landing pad. I immediately picked him up and his head was already bleeding. I tried to stop the blood, realized it was more than I thought and told Anderson to go get Brandon. 

"Daddy!" he yelled, " Mama dropped Max & now he won't stop bleeding." 

Awesome. 

We decided pretty quickly that he needed to go to the ER so we loaded in the car & headed that way. After a few HOURS, it stopped bleeding but we had to keep putting some kind of numbing gel on it, so the blood kept smearing everywhere.

In what can only be called "My worst nightmare coming true," we spent 5 hours trapped with our kids & I had not prepared anything. I am always a snack/drink/random junk carrier and I had none of the above because we had left so quickly. Luckily, some weird sort of fate intervened and this book appeared on my seat after we returned from getting his vitals checked. A fire truck book (he loves fire trucks) and notice the top left (bottom left of the book). Twin Sisters. Some kind of Twin Sister fairy made this happen for us and I was very grateful for the few minutes of sitting still that this bought us. #itkeepsgettingmorefree

We gave up all attempts at keeping him still and clean. HOURS.

Maybe a few minutes, but it was appreciated. 

He was SO good during the actual sewing part. (Is it called sewing? stitching?) He just sat on my lap while I became very excited about shapes and animals on the iPad. 

A picture from GG the next day. I love his expression and I know I am going to love that little scar that reminds me that sitting down is overrated. 

The ComeBack Kid.

It's been 7 months since we've had an EYE update and it's safe to say that we were ready for some news. To be fair, I am always ready for news, but when it comes to Dr. Cogen's words of wisdom, it is even harder to wait. 

There is such a familiar feeling on the drive to his appointments-worry and anxiousness all wrapped up with even more worry and, always, just the tiniest bit of hope trying to wedge it's foot in the door. It is hard to allow hope in because you just don't want to be disappointed. Surprise good news is so, so much better than surprise bad news. 

He did a terrible job reading the letters/shapes. He knew some of them, but he was all over the place on most of it. This was, of course, terrible for us because we had to wait HOURS for his eyes to dilate & Dr. Cogen to see him (not really, but the entire "Finding Nemo" movie did play while we were waiting, so I am not completely exaggerating.)

Entertaining Max was really the best part of the entire trip. Especially because he had just been to his 18 month check up the day before where he received his shots, so he didn't freak out about being in another doctor's office at all. Insert all sarcasm here. 

But, then we did get to see Dr. Cogen and Anderson was SO good-answering millions of questions, sitting still, doing everything that he asked him to do and just making me so proud of him. 

As it turns out, yet again, we were wrong about our assumptions and Anderson is actually doing AWESOME ! The reason that he was unable to read everything was because his prescription was wrong in his lens! 

His eye looks perfect, he is growing into his lens and...wait for it....we get to take a day off from patching every week!! We are now patching less in an entire week than we patched in a day when Anderson was Max's age. 

This journey. Wow. 

Now, for the bittersweet part-Dr. Cogen told us that Anderson will never be able to play tackle football. The constant hitting could impact his transplant lens, so it is off limits for him. 

Before I start my pity time, hear me correctly-I will never, ever be as grateful for anything in my life as I am for the fact that my son can see. We are winning, we are amazing, we are lucky. 

But....Anderson is obsessed with football. That is all he ever wants to do/play/talk about/live/etc. I know he is only 4 and legit tackle football is far away in our lives, but nobody wants their kid to not be able to do something. I wanted him to figure out on his own that his size/intensity probably work better for other sports; I don't want him to not play because he can't. 

I know, I can't worry about this right now; it always works out; football is dangerous and there are other sports, but it still makes me a little sad. 

Also, we have not told Anderson this news yet, so there is still a chance he will just decide on his own to not play before we have to tell him that he can't. A mama can hope, anyway.

But when I am sad about football, I remember our success level and I am reminded to not dwell on silly (that's for you, Nicole) things. 

Because success looks like this scenario: Anderson put his own patch on one morning a few weeks ago! I will always remember that day. I cannot, with any fiber of my being, truly understand that we have made it to the point where he puts his own patch on his eye. Well, maybe not "puts" because he only did it once, but this is still truly amazing. 

Also, I don't think I ever shared this, but remember when we went to Chattanooga to talk about Dr. Cogen? I found the link to the video. We are a few minutes into the video and I was literally 9 months pregnant, so ignore the chubbiness.

A link to the video where I am chubby and talk about Dr. Cogen being a miracle worker

Also, here is a video of an intense basketball game at Thanksgiving

Watch this video and you will notice a few things:

-Anderson is not terrible at dribbling for a 4 year old

-My entire family is basically on his team

-This is the result of me telling them that Anderson might not be able to play football, so everyone was trying to build up other sports.  I overheard Kyler talking about soccer and basketball with him on multiple occasions. It was seriously adorable. 

And, finally, Anderson posing with his Baseball certificate-"Comeback Kid." When he received it, my first thought was "Because of his EYE!" and then I realized that I am an idiot and his eye had nothing to do with baseball. Actually, it was his BROKEN WRIST that he played with the first few weeks that helped him earn that title. 

For some reason, I equate the two, though. Is there something about the fact that Anderson deals with eye issues that made him not miss a beat with 2 broken bones? Did the fact that he learned to walk/climb/run while only having access to one eye contribute to this athleticism? Does he even know or care about any of this?? Am I crazy? Yes, probably. 

Anyways, good news, yet again. And, for that, I am grateful. 

The kid in the green glasses.

Just as it always does, the artwork hanging outside the classroom caught my eye. I began scanning the pictures looking for his name, not noticing the details of the pictures at first. Upon closer reflections, I realized there was a jumbled mess of "the same"-eyes, peachy circles, blobs of hair. 

"Maybe he didn't do one," I thought. "It must have been a project on a day he wasn't here."

And, then...this. 

My heart skipped a bit at this face. 

So many emotions. 

That is my kid; The kid in the green glasses is mine. 

Every single other picture could be any kid in the class-2 dot eyes, a line of hair, routine kid faces. 

But, there is no mistaking those green circles.

"He did a great job, didn't he?" asked the teacher. "He really captured himself."

Did she feel what I did? 

HE DOESN'T HAVE A PATCH ON IN HIS SELF PORTRAIT. 

And, he is very proud to be rocking some awesome green glasses.

This will be framed, in my house, for the rest of my life. 

 I am so crazily torn up about this picture because I had no inking that we would ever be at the point* where we are now.

*The point=patching vacation, "guaranteed success", amazing because my kid doesn't even see the patch as a part of who he is.

Please remember that the first PO we saw flat out said, "He will never be normal" in reference to my baby son. "He will never see well out of his left eye, he will probably not drive & he will always wear incredibly thick lensed glasses that make him look like a bug." (She did no say the bug part, but she might as well have said it because that is what everyone was thinking) I still shudder at this woman who very clearly was not a mother because WHO SAYS THAT TO SOMEONE?? 

My fear (beyond the whole blindness thing) was that he would be made fun of, that he would be "the kid in the glasses."

It turns out I was right. 

"That kid in the green glasses is fearless! He would run through a brick wall if he needed to!" was a comment I overheard at a soccer game. 

Followed by, "Watch how fast that kid in the green glasses is when he runs."

And, then there were the comments at t ball.

 "You have to be quick when that kid in the glasses is around if you want to get the ball."

"I think that kid in the glasses is going to get the ball every time."


Hmmm.

I didn't quite (ever in my wildest dreams) imagine that these would be the "glasses" comments I would hear.

Clearly my kid's ability to occasionally get the ball at a "game" is not any indicator of his later success as an athlete or scholar or non-nose picker, but it is an indicator that he is beyond amazing for overcoming a significant vision problem, access to only one eye for the majority of his life and, let's be honest, a neurotic mother.

I am so proud of him.

Turns out, Dr. Cogen is proud, too! We had our latest visit & Anderson was called a, "star patient." He truly was so good-answered all of the questions like a champ, posed for a pic with Dr. Cogen and most adorably, told Max, "I will be with you if you need eye surgery."*

*Max better NOT ever need eye surgery, but it was sweet.

We were told to only patch 2 hours a day & I asked if the margaritas are free on our resort vacation island (they are); he said no rec specs yet, a decrease in his prescription (we want this), 30% chance of strabismus (worst case scenario is eye muscle surgery, but he does not seem too concerned) and to come back in a few months because we are living in the "GUARANTEED SUCCESS" world and loving it!

So lucky to have this kid in the green glasses as my own:)

My fear of walking.

I have these irrational fears that sometimes control my life: bad yogurt, random things appearing in toilets, Max walking. 

At least I used to place Max walking as irrational, but now I realize I am totally justified in having that fear. 

Flashback: Within a 4 week time span, Anderson started walking, turned 1, developed a staph infection on his leg, decided he was no longer interested in eating and something else....what was it....Oh, right. HE STARTED PATCHING. 

I have reasoned that I am not actually afraid of walking, but to me, all that I know from the walking point forward is a really, really rough path. 

This fear is starting to be a subconscious presence in my life. As Max keeps aging, the truth that he inevitably is going to be 11 months old becomes more and more real. That symmetrical month is when Anderson started patching and "The Hardest Time Of My Life" began, so it is only fitting that I live in fear of the known. I am actually sort of curious about the unknown world, which is a non patching toddler. Will it be the resort vacation that I always dreamed of when Anderson was tiny? Or, will Max's inevitable ability to make it past every barrier, closed door and toilet lock to play in his favorite fountain trump all perspective and make me just as exhausted?

I am curious. I will, of course, keep you posted ;)

His new found obsession with a random pair of rubber gloves has turned him into a doctor quite often. Yesterday, he told me that my eye was broken and I had to wear this bandaid to make it better.

"How will covering my eye make it better? How does this bandaid work?" I asked him

"It just does, Bobble."

"What if it hurts when I take it off?  You put it on my eyelashes."

"It will hurt, but just for a minute. And, I will be here, so it will be ok."

A miracle and a trophy

On July 8, 2006, I heard some pretty life changing phrases to the tune of "I do" and "Introducing Mr.&Mrs. Brandon Glover." 

As it turns out, that day really likes me, because my life changed dramatically for the better again on July 8, 2013 with a few phrases sounding an awful lot like, "2-3 hours a day" and "guaranteed success."

Let me start from the top. 

For almost 3 years I have worried about, obsessed over, cried about, researched, talked to anyone who would listen, bonded with people I've never met, planned my day around, and all in all, had my life consumed  by one thing: the patch. 

Only the imoms (& the igrandmas) really know what this means. Literally, every single day. And, day implies that there have only been 700 or so times to worry. Really, when you are talking about a patch, every hour, every minute, every second counts. 

We were patching for 14 hours for almost 2 years.

FOURTEEN FREAKING HOURS OF KEEPING AN EYEPATCH ON A TODDLER. Shud.der.

Then we got to go to about 10 last summer and I literally felt like a new person. 4 hours off of the patch  was maybe the most life altering thing that has every happened to me. 

Until now. 

As you have figured out, we went to see Dr. Cogen on Monday and it safe to say, the visit was a success. 

First up: this guy, Mr. Max. 

Anderson was telling him about the eye drops. Brotherly love. 

Max's eyes have been checked by every pediatrician in the practice and by the Knoxville Ped. Op., but I would not rest until Dr. Cogen gave me the all clear. Every doctor reminded me that this is not genetic and the odds of both of them having one are slim, but I couldn't let the worry go. 

Dr. Cogen poked him with all kinds of stuff and gave us the all clear. "Perfect" was the word he used. (See, I'm not the only one who thinks that) 

Knowing what I now know about vision and how it develops, I think it is a true miracle that anyone can see, so I chalked Max having clear vision as a pretty awesome miracle.  

Next up: this guy, My Bug. 

First, I always try to have him wear a patch/glasses shirt to the doctor visits because that is just too much of a theme opportunity for me. He really was SO good during the almost 3 hour long visit. 

To get out some energy, at one point he was doing jumping jack in the hallway while we waited for Max's eyes to dilate. (They take a lot longer when they are babies, but the baby drops don't smell as gross to me)

First, the nurse had Anderson answer all kinds of questions-he identified the phone, the hand, the cake, the duck, all of it. 

He did letters for the first time (P...F...Z) and identified all of the numbers in this book with patterns. I was so proud of him. He was sitting in the chair all by himself, just answering questions. 

Then we went back to wait some more for the drops to do their thing. 

 I am so familiar with the waiting room. The rocking chairs with the ugly pattern, the TV always on Nick Jr, the sign advertising Adoption books for $10, the sticker station. It is sort of a comfortable place to be, but I was still becoming more and more anxious. 

Finally we got to see THE Dr. Cogen. While Anderson acted perfect in the chair (where is this kid when we are at home?), Dr. Cogen used different lenses and lights on his eyes and read off a bunch of numbers to a different nurse. We held our breath and sort of stared. At one point, Brandon & I agreed that it didn't sound good. We were nervous.

Turns out, we do not need to go into eye medicine because we were wrong. Anderson's prescription has decreased, which means he is growing into his lens. This, apparently, is exactly what we want to happen. And, if it keeps growing this way, he might not even need glasses as a teenager!

Then Dr. Cogen said, "I am going to dramatically decrease your patching therapy." My first thought was, "He's never called it patching therapy; that's weird." Then, I let myself think, just for a split second, "what if we get an extra hour off?"

                                           "Let's go down to 2-3 hours a day."


                                               (pause. remember to breathe)

We sort of stared at him. "What do you mean we get to live the rest of our lives on an resort island where everything is paid for and we never have to work again and everything is perfect?"  He repeated it. We still stared at him. A tear filled stare at this point. I think he was waiting for a response because he said, "I think we can say he has guaranteed success at this point."

I honestly wish I could remember what my thoughts were when I heard this, but I can't. I was so, so unprepared to hear this. My mind NEVER has even remotely wandered anywhere close to hearing this, so I had nothing there. I know I was crying, Brandon was crying, I think Max was crying and Anderson said, "So, does this mean I was good and get to pick out a toy at Hobbytown?"

Guaranteed Success. I don't want to jinx it, but Dr. Cogen is immune to the jinx gods, so I think we are safe.

Two days later I am honestly still processing this news. I cannot fathom what this means even though we have had time to adjust. He will be done patching by about 9am every day (he wakes up by 6 usually).

In just the last days, I have started to realize how much the patch consumed our lives. I find myself staring at him in the rear view mirror waiting for him to take it off in the car. He learned how to take it off himself at about 13 months, so the car was always our worst enemy. I find myself adding hours in my head, "He has it off now...that's 20 minutes, plus the 15 from earlier...if he is asleep by 9, then...." Since we always had a # of hours off and not a # of hours on, I was always having to do math problems in my head, which is not pleasant or accurate for anyone, so the set amount is pretty awesome for my brain cells. We went swimming and I had to keep reminding myself not to stalk the time in order to know the exact number of minutes that he had it off, to make up for it later.

 Everyone said, "It's a miracle" or "You won the lottery." And, while this news has literally changed our lives, it is neither of those things. Miracles and lottery wins are out of our hands; they just happen.

Guaranteed Success does NOT just happen.

 A Bobble chasing around a non-napping 15 month old for 14 hours trying to keep an eyepatch on him and keep her sanity at the same time happens.

A Daddy listening to said Bobble cry with worry and that same Daddy being stern about keeping the patch on, even when it is breaking his heart, too, happens.

A Noni being a rock star and entertaining the baby/toddler/preschooler all day to keep the patch on, all the while never once complaining happens.

A GG offering love and support  and keeping the eyepatch on the energetic kid happens.

A certain Bug being a trooper, resilient, amazing and the best thing in  the world happens.

I find it fitting that on our anniversary, the day we celebrated becoming a team, we were given a trophy in the form of "Guaranteed Success." 

An apology

Dear Eyepatch,

Hi. I hope you're doing well.

I feel like this is really awkward because we both know that I have put this off for a long time and you have just been too professional to say anything. I appreciate that.

It has been 2 1/2 years to the day since we first met. 30 months. That is a long time for a relationship between a person and a band-aid.

I really hated you the first time I saw you. Actually, if I am being honest, I not only hated you, I resented, despised, loathed and cussed you. I did not understand why you were in my life if not to just stress me out and make me even crazier.

In my defense, you made me cry a lot. It was hard to see you constantly interrupting my perfect life and stealing my sanity and making me feel like I was hurting my baby by forcing you on him all day, every day.

As time went on, my hatred of you turned into annoyance. I was so annoyed by your constant presence. You seemed to smug to me, just sitting there, taunting me. Annoyance often manifested itself into resentment, which made me even more agitated with you because it wasn't the fault of anyone else that you were so happily camped out in our lives.

 My resentment very gradually turned into acceptance. Over the course of many, many months, I came to accept that you are a part of our lives. I begrudgingly began to admit that you do, in fact, belong here.

Through all of my crazy range of emotions, you remained a stable presence in our lives. You have changed colors and designs. You smell a little differently at times and sometimes you are a little stickier, which I appreciate, especially in the summer months. You have survived stuck to the bottom of shoes, my coupon organizer, cereal boxes and dog bowls. We have left you behind at Target, Dollywood, the pool and, most often, the sandbox. You have been sweated on, cried on, pulled off, cut to make you into a better shape, crumpled, stuck on other people, animals and walls and basically abused every day of your life.

Yet, you have remained constant.

A long time ago, (29 months ago, maybe?) I put a post on a Facebook that said, "Dear eyepatch, I hate you" and someone commented, "Don't hate the eyepatch, he has work to do!" I was very irritated at this comment because I really did hate you, mostly because you had work to do. But, now, I realize she was right and, despite my anger toward you, you have definitely done your job so far.

So, here we are, all these months later and, despite constant abuse, you continue to do your job 12-14 hours a day, every single day. Don't get me wrong, the time I spend with you is still not anywhere near fun or enjoyable, but it is tolerable and I feel like that is a nice place to land.

I know we have about 4 years left together and, while I cannot promise not to get mad at you, I do recognize your efforts.

Thanks for sticking around.

-Bobble

The new Monster Truck version in all it's glory.