First of all, this is the new couch. The new, non-poisonous couch, that replaced the poisonous couch.
Second, the picture I submitted for TotallyLooksLike.com didn't get enough votes to make it to the final page, but it did have over 200 thumbs-ups and only twenty thumbs-downs, so it's all good. Here you are once again, to marvel at my astute-ness:
Third, after trying everything we could from bribes to trying to teach him how to do it himself, we returned my son's corrective contact lenses. The only other thing I could do was sit on him, pry his eyes open, and force them into his eyes, and I just couldn't do that. We're taking him in to the eye doctor again in six months to chart his progress and try to come up with an estimate on how long we have until the lenses won't work any more, and at that time, we'll try again. My son says he'll be willing to do it when he's a little bit older (I sure hope he's not telling me a whopper.) If worse comes to worse, I'll just drive out to the eye doctor's three times a week and have him insert them. I am going to do what I have to in order to save my son's sight, but if I can find a way to do it without putting him (and me) through a nightmare, that's what we'll do. As it was, I didn't sleep for nearly a week from the stress of trying to make it all work.
Okay, I think you're pretty much caught up now. Back to your regularly scheduled blog reading . . .
7 comments:
I went and looked for that picture the first time you posted it, and I couldn't find it. Oh, well, I tried.
By the way - The Santa Letters review is up on my blog.
Lovely couch, Tristi. Much better than the thing we have in our family room . . .
My total sympathies with the vision problems. Since our daughter (now 15) was two months old we've done a regimen of eyedrops, patches, glasses etc. So not fun.
Our son also has vision problems, and at age twelve (after he'd successfully broken several pairs of glasses at the rate of a pair a month) we tried contacts. It turned out to be another expensive disaster. At that point we gave up. Now, at age 17, he uses contacts with responsibility, and he laments his poor vision.
There is no saying, "I told you so" on our part, because we too wish his vision was better---wish he'd listened to us when he was younger,the stinker!
Our recent battle is with our eight-year-old. She needs some serious dental work done, which we've attempted three times, greatly frustrating her father, two dentists, and myself. No amount of "drug cocktail" relaxes this kid, and she seriously might bite someone's finger off if we try again. So . . . do I let her teeth rot, do I let those sets of double teeth in her lower jaw do long term damage?!
What's a parent to do? If you figure it out, please share. As I said, my deepest sympathies. Good luck.
Thanks for the catch up. I wanted to let you know that I have declared my rough draft complete at 68,177 words. as i edit and flesh it out i think it'll land about 75-80,000. Your challenges rock!
Michelle
I found you after clicking from one blog to another. I think it was violet lady. She was reviewing The Santa Letters. I am writing because my mother's maiden name was Gooch. Since it is not too common a name, I was wondering who she is.
Will read your blog....
How nice, about the couch! Sorry about the contacts, I can relate with other torture devices and children, ugh!!!! I liked the look alike thing too.
Tristi, that visual of you "helping" your son insert his contacts has me doing the horrified laughter thing! Poor guy! And poor you to be so stressed.
But the couch is lovely.
Yeah a nice non-toxic couch! :)
Good luck with your sons eyesight.
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