Transference Part II: Stuff I forgot

Almost as soon as I hit publish on my last post, I realized that I'd not actually talked about a lot the memories that went along with wearing glasses most of my life.  Glasses, and contacts too, are a major pain in the ass for many reasons.  When I get my glasses replaced every couple of years, I've come to buy the most ridiculously expensive lenses available just to get the thinnest possible piece of plastic between me and the world.  It helps with the magnification that those of us with hefty prescriptions experience.  It makes it possible for me to look the grocery store clerk in the eye when I head out in my specs for bread and bananas. 

That particular day that I ran home sobbing, I think that my glasses had been taken from me.  Or more precisely, someone had asked, as often happened, to see my glasses, so they could look through them.  Having zero skill at saying "No" to anyone as the shy little girl that I was, I'm sure I conceded to their demands.  I think it was one of those times when those big mean boys just wouldn't give them back.  They got passed around, and my stop was approaching.  I knew I was going to have to get off the bus, but just didn't have the voice to speak up and get my glasses back.  I'm not even sure I would have had the guts to tell the bus driver.  When you wear glasses as a kid, you live in constant terror of your glasses getting broken, or scratched.  Worse yet, you live with the fear that if you were to lose them, you'd be completely unable to see anything.  So that day, I sat helpless on that plastic seat, afraid that I'd never see my glasses, or the walls, or anything else, ever again. 

I mentioned that I skated through must of teen years without using any correction.  There was one exception to this, driving.  I cannot legally (or physically) drive without correction.  So, I'd keep my glasses tucked away till I had to rev up my green 1970 Ford Maverick, or Gumby, as it was known, then I'd slip them on, and avoid eye contact with my passengers.  Luckily, I was most often transporting close friends, who could give a wank if I was looking like a googly eyed bug or not.  But once in a while, a less known acquaintance would be riding in the back seat, and I'd have to reveal my secret.  That or drive off into a ditch. 

When I went to get my license, at 16 years old, they made me take an eye exam.  Now, I see great with correct.  Out of my left eye.  It's not that I don't see out of my right eye, but it's become so weak, that my left eye basically does all the work, with the right working to help with peripheral vision.  It's a common enough problem that it doesn't phase most eye docs, but to a lay examiner at the Frankfort County Clerk's office, it was apparently an anomaly.  In a shocked tone, she told me that she could not issue my license until I got my family eye doctor to sign off saying that I was NOT legally blind.  This was both embarrassing and scary.  What if I couldn't drive because of my stupid eyes?  That would be social suicide as a teenager. 

The litany of complaints I have against my vision is long.  As a little kid, going to the pool is another pain in the butt.  You can't see when you take your glasses off, but you can't really swim with them on, because they just get wet, and you can't see through that either.  You also have the added burden of trying to find a safe place to store them so that your friends don't sit or step on them.  Seriously, what 10 year old carries a hard shelled eye glass case to the pool?  Not me, that's for sure.  This issue with water extends to running through the sprinklers in the neighbor's yards, being out in the rain, getting a snow ball to the face, spending the day at a water park, etc. 

I remember very clearly playing outside one summer, as a little kid.  My glasses got wet thanks to some neighborhood antics, and I wanted to dry them off.  I don't know how old I was, but am certain that, given my actions, I couldn't have been more than 4.  I found the driest surface I could, and proceeded to wipe my lenses on them.  That surface?  Our front porch concrete steps.  I was baffled when, after drying them, my ability to see through them had actually gotten worse!  Imagine!  I suspect my mom also remembers that clearly. 

Contact lenses also pose their own logistical problems, along with being expensive and bad for your eyes.  Ever try camping with contacts?  Yeah, have fun removing your lenses in the dark with dirty hands.  I also have considerable difficulty with glare while driving in my contacts.  It's less of a problem in the day light, when my superior distance vision keeps me well aware of the road for miles around me.  But at night, I might as well be blindfolded. 

Here I am, reminding myself again, that these are my experiences, and not Raina's.  Exhale.  Again.  

Transference

Transference is something I struggle with as a parent.  Wikipedia is nice enough to define it here.  But basically, it's the idea that you take your issue, and imagine that others around you, especially one's own children, are having the same emotional experience.  Because, why would anyone perceive the world differently than I do?  That's just madness!

I have my insecurities, like any normal person.  Most of the time I can reason my way around these hang-ups.  I know that my concerns about my posture, my fingernails, my height, etc are not probably the first things people notice about me.  Nor, for the most part can others tell that I'm insecure about this or that characteristic until they get to know me well enough that I confess my deepest fears about myself. 

I suspect the reason people are prone to transferring their insecurities to their children is because it's difficult to imagine that someone who looks and acts so much like you could possibly think any differently than you.  Even though it's fairly likely, as with my own kids, that their socialization is not the same as mine.  Nor is the time or culture that they live in exactly the same.  So, it's silly of me to assume that they'll have the same problems I had as a child.  My impulse, nonetheless, is to protect them from my scars, my fears, my wounds.  To shelter them. 

When I learned a few days ago that my daughter needed glasses a flood of memories and emotions slammed into me.  Not only is she about the same age as I was when I got glasses, but her prescription is almost the same as mine, in the same eyes.  There's not even a hint that her genetics vary from mine. 

My brother and I, in a rare moment of cooperation, rocking our 1980's glasses.  At my grandmother's house, about 1984.

I've known that this was coming since she was a baby.  She was born with a blocked tear duct, and her right eye, even after this cleared up, has never behaved quite like it should.  I could see in photographs that her eye would be slightly turned out.  And when she'd get sleepy, this became more apparent.  It wasn't bad enough that the doctors could call it a lazy eye, but I could see it.  Lately when I looked at her, it was like looking at a photograph of myself without contact lenses in.  I don't know how to describe it exactly, but I tell when I don't have any vision correction.  My eyes just aren't opened as wide.  It's like I squint a bit to focus better. 

We're both very far-sighted.  As it turns out, far-sighted people can compensate for their short eyeballs without correction, for a while at least, it just takes a lot of muscle power, and will eventually cause one's vision to get worse.  It's a good thing too, because I recall spending most of high school, during the school day, without glasses or contacts.  It's stupid, I know.  But that's how self conscious I was.  Can't afford contacts for a couple of years?  Well, I'll just go without ANYTHING!  Yes, I'm stubborn like that. 

Me, at about 16, holding my glasses while the photo was being snapped.  I'm trying hard here to make sure both eyes are straight, and hiding slightly behind my hair in case my right eye betrays me.

Four eyes.  Coke bottles.  Nerd.  X-ray vision.  "Hey, can I try on your glasses?  OMG, how do you see through those things!?"  Dork.  Ugly.  Smart.  Librarian.  Book worm.  "You wouldn't hit a guy with glasses would you?"  Big eyes.  "Why are your eyes so big?"

One of the deepest traumas came in elementary school, maybe second or third grade.  Because I'm from a small town, the bus routes included a mix of kids from the elementary, middle, and high schools for many years.  Little kids, in with big kids.  Kids from a wide variety of backgrounds rode my bus, and I can remember this one boy who was just bent on picking at me.  I don't know who he was was.  I don't think I even knew his name then.  He was older, probably a middle schooler.  He was big and boisterous and I was small and skinny.  I can't even remember what he said to me, but it was relentless.  He laughed at me, and said terrible things to me because of my glasses.  Things I couldn't control.  It went on and on, day after day.   And I remember one day finally just breaking down into sobs the second I stepped off the bus.  I ran down my street, and cried so long and so hard that I think I must have scared my mom.  I couldn't tell her what had happened for a long time.  It was that the kind of cry that shakes your whole body and takes your breath from you.  You try to talk, and more wails just come out.  The kind of cry that you fall asleep after because it's taken everything you have.  The kind of cry that leaves you silent at dinner even after the tears have stopped.

The result of this wound is years of wearing my contact lenses for far too many hours, to the point that I'm nearing the end of my ability to use contact lenses at all.  Going to extreme lengths to keep only the nearest and dearest from seeing me in my glasses.  It took me until adulthood to realize that my eyes are actually large.  Larger than average.  And that this is actually a desirable feature.  And my gorgeous children have them too.

I shot this photo specifically because I was marveling at how large her eyes are.

Long lashes to go with his huge hazel eyes.

 

 

So, I'm starting to get over it.  I'm gradually coming to convince myself that it doesn't matter.  Glasses or contacts.  It doesn't matter.  I've been trying to get Raina excited about the glasses she'll be getting in the next few weeks.  I've let her spray my glasses with lens cleaner.  I've been talking to her about using a case to store them in.  I've been having her wear her sunglasses outside.  I've found a cute doll that I'm hoping to get her for her birthday.  I'm trying to get over my issue, so I don't tranfer my self-consciousness on to her.  As a kid, I think I believed it was possible for a kid wearing glasses to be cute, or pretty.  I remember dreaming of the day that I wouldn't need to wear them.  Longing for contact lenses to free me from my magnified eyes under thick lenses.  I want her know that she's pretty, and that people aren't "just saying that", from the time she's a little girl, and not have to wait till she's older to figure out how lovely and striking she is.  I'm hopeful that perceptions about kids wearing glasses really have evolved, thanks to Harry Potter, but I'm guarded, to say the least. 

Thing is, I'm actually excited for her to get glasses.  The frames she's tried on are super cute.  I'm looking forward to matching her dress for her birthday pictures to her little pink frames, complete with pigtails of course.  And I know that she'll gradually come to appreciate being able to see better.  And maybe, just maybe, it'll make her stand out even more as the bubbly, unique, little squirrel that she is. 

A rare photo of my in my glasses as an adult.  I'm never self-conscious with my bro!  (Despite our seething dorkiness.)

Our favorite toys

I was shopping around online looking for ideas for birthday gifts for Raina's upcoming 3rd birthday.  In her age category on Amazon, I ran across what I consider the greatest toy I've ever purchased.  I promptly added a review to the hundreds of other positives and got to thinking about what the best toys are that we already have.  The timeless ones that nearly every kids that comes through our house seem drawn to, or that ones that my kids have gotten years of use out of.

So, in no particular order, some of the best ones we've had pass through our house, most of which are still in the circulation.

1. Step 2 Water table
This is it, the greatest investment I've ever made in a toy.  We got it the spring that Ethan was about 16 months old.  It's still in great shape, and still gets heavy use, now going into it's sixth summer.  Both kids have gone through the patient fascination of gently touching the water, pouring from one container to another, then onto just dumping the water, mixing in dirt, or splashing themselves or others for loud, hilarious, fun.  It's better than a wading pool.  You can use it when it's not warm enough for swimming.  There's not any major drowning hazard with is.  And I think only once has one of my kids attempted to climb into it.  It's low enough down that even babies who are pulling up to stand can use it.  If you need a gift for a toddler, or soon to be toddler, this is THE way to go.

2. Simple stacking cups
This is the best $1 I ever spent on a kids toy.  Though no longer in circulation, I had a similar set of stacking cups as the ones I've linked to.  Ethan never tired of them as a baby/toddler.  I carried them in the diaper bag and he'd bang them around and stack them while we ate dinner our, or visited La Leche League.  Raina used the same set, which I somehow managed to keep in tact all that time.  She eventually outgrew them, and managed to lose one in Toys R Us.  She'd gotten in the habit of toting one or two of them around, along with her pacifier.  And much like her pacifier, she was very prone to just setting them down when she got distracted by something else.  Drove me nuts.  I have, on more than one occasion, walked all the way back through a store looking for the one and only pacifier we had on us to survive the journey home.  Ethan, is much more like me.  Particular, and orderly, and never would have considered separating the set of cups.

3. Imaginext Pirate Ship
Ethan first saw this at a friend's house when he was about two and half  or three years old.  We got it for him the following Christmas, and it was, as we say in our house, the winner that year.  He's outgrown it a bit in the last year, but it is still great fun.  One of his friends, who is the same age, plays with it, almost exclusively, every time he comes over.  Raina has also enjoyed it.  The one I've linked is the older model that we have.  The have a newer version, much more reasonably priced.

4. Fisher Price My first dollhouse
Raina got this for Christmas 2009 (at 1 year, 8 months old) and I kid you not, she has played with nearly everyday since then.  She got this as a gift from her Gran along with all the available accessories.  Her favorite part is the baby.  She is very insistent that the baby does not sleep in the crib, but instead, that the bigger sister's bed goes next to the parent's bed (in the parent's room) and the baby sleeps there.  Interestingly, lately she's been identifying more with the big sister doll.  It's super cute, and very durable.  Highly recommended.

5.  Kitty Keyboard and Leap's Phonics Pond
Let me start by saying that I am not a fan of electronic toys in general.  I'm grouping these together because they've both been favorites of Raina's for the same reason: MUSIC!!!  They've been surprising favorites.  The Leap Frog toy was originally given to us as a hand-me-down.  I held onto it because it had lots of phonics and letter identification games on it that I figured the kids would eventually grow into.  Raina however, loves it because it plays 26 different songs.  One for each letter of the alphabet.  She knows where her favorite dance tunes are and plays them, while grooving in her tutu of choice for the day.  Tragedy struck one day when she decided that she loved this toy so much, that she decided to share her juice with it.  It was done out of love, but caused the whole thing to short circuit.  At the time, she was toting that thing around every minute of the day.  Knowing that it was a fairly old toy, I dashed to Once Upon a Child in Lexington, and was able to replace it for $5 the very same day.  Whew!  That was close!  She got the keyboard for Christmas in 2009, and it was a surprising hit as well.  Though it has several functions on the keyboard, like recording, various rhythms and instruments, what she loves is the (again) the music.  It plays several songs, maybe 12 or so, and has a mic that she likes to pretend she's singing along with.  It also meows when you leave it alone too long, which is just too stinking cute for words.  She still plays with it almost daily.  I've gladly changed the batteries in it only twice in that time, and the second time came just this week.

6.  Fun Years Preschool Tool Truck

This one, I can't find anywhere on the internet, which means it will probably never leave my house.  Seriously, I will keep this one for my grand kids.  Ethan got this Tool Truck from our friend Daren, for his second birthday.  It's been played with my every kid that's ever come into my house, regardless of their age.  It has a drill with bits for bolts, and screws.  It comes with these chunky screws, nails, and bolts that are great for little hands.  The wheels come off.  The engine comes out.  There's a little driver, and a vice with easy to turn crank on the back, and several other hand tools and places to put the screws, etc into.  I don't know if Daren picked his up in Canada (along with some of the cutest clothes my kids have ever owned from the Roots brand out of that great white Northern neighbor of ours) or if it's been banned/recalled or what, but I cannot find anything comparable that's aimed at toddlers and quite this awesome.

7.  Melissa and Doug Ice Cream set
We have a lot of Melissa and Doug goodies at our house. Raina got this from her Granddad for Christmas a couple of years ago, and it's been a surprising hit.  It taps into that toddler need to stack things, but is also fun for pretending play that slightly older kids like to engage in.

8.  Leap Frog Music Table
This is another one that we don't have anymore, in part because it was on loan to us from our friends Keith and Dawn.  Their daughter loved it so much that they took it with them when the flew to California to visit family.  Ethan also loved it, as did Raina.  When I was ready for it to go, it went right back to their house, for their newest addition.  Nice of them to wait long enough on their second baby for our kids to outgrow a favorite toy.

9. Fisher Price Symphony
This toy is no longer in circulation at my house, but is safely tucked away in the attic for posterity.  The link is the newer version of a well loved toy.  It's been through my niece (who'll be 14 this year), my nephew, and both of my kiddos.  It is both another musical toy, as well as another electronic toy.  Raina turned to hear it playing when she was mere days old.  Plays little bits of classical tunes and can be modified to sound like various instruments, voices, and can be broken down into individual tonal ranges depending upon which pieces are in place.

and finally...a great book that we couldn't live without...

10. Your favorite Seuss

A baker's dozen of Dr. Seuss stories.  Many a night reading/memorizing some of the stories in this book.  It also introduced me to one of my favorite Seuss stories that never fails to knock my kids out, The Sleep Book.

Tae Kwon Monkey

That's him on the far right, row nearest to the camera.  Looking very serious.

Ethan's been taking Taekwondo for several months now.  He's still in the "preschool" level class, which means a shorter class, with younger kids, that meets only one day a week.  In the summer we're thinking of moving him to the older kids class, which meets twice a week for an hour at a time.

Breaking the board.  By far the most exciting part of every belt test.  The kids are always shocked that they can do it.

Last night he tested for his green belt, which in the little kid's class, is actually a white belt with a color stripe on it.  I'm very proud of him.  He seems to have a natural knack for the techniques, listens well despite his endless wiggles, and never complains about going.  In fact, his only complaint so far?  Not getting to play any video games on the nights that he has class.  That's a complaint I can live with!  He says that he wants to go all the way to black belt, and actually seems to understand that doing so is a long term commitment.  He's always happy to show us his new moves.  Lately he even seems to be absorbing it more than the first couple of sessions he took the class.  He'll actually practice, call things by name, and then proceed to make up his own "fighting" moves. 

Green belt boy

Rudy Van Gogh

"I paint with my hands."

Anybody who's been to my house in the last few months is well aware of Raina's current passion for painting.  Santa brought her a nice large set of watercolors for Christmas, after she demolished several smaller sets in the preceding weeks.  If you're looking for a good set, I highly recommend these:  Alex Jumbo Watercolors  They're worth every penny, and still going strong two months after getting them, despite almost daily use. 

While a drop cloth, paint brushes, watercolors, and various papers are nearly always scattered across my kitchen table, I usually reserve "messy paints" for outdoors (and therefore warm weather) only.  Not that my house is ever actually clean, but the constant battle against kid/dog/cat/grown people messes leads me rarely do anything intentionally that might cause unnecessary mess.  So, I surprised myself earlier this week, when Raina found the tempera paints and I actually let her use them.  On the kid's art easel.  In my kitchen. 

Masterpiece underway

My guilt was two-fold.  Raina was miserably sick with a sinus infection.  In fact, after painting that morning, she proceeded to sleep almost the entire day, overcome by fever.  Being a mommy (read: sucker) I wanted anything to make her feel better, and let her carry on through several large sheets of paper till she pooped out.  Secondly, I'd recently dis-enrolled her from her Gymboree art class that she'd been enjoying weekly for about a month.  She loves that class.  It's an hour of hands-on crafting goodness, with a pace that matches her 30 second attention span.  She gets to paint on the walls (on paper) at the beginning of each class, and uses her hands every time.  The first time we went, she hesitated, and I encouraged her to paint with her hands, and do whatever she wanted.  It's art after all, and I sure as heck wasn't going to let her paint with "messy paints" inside my house anytime soon!

Ahem.

Fear not.  I am not depriving her permanently of the wondrous (and pricey) Gymboree class.  I simply plan to re-enroll her in the summer, after her part time preschool ends for the semester.  Somehow, I'm sure she'll still be more than happy to have unbridled access to paints, glitter, glue, feathers, foam stickers, tape, and googly eyes. 

The Endless Winter

If only I were part German Shepherd

Yes, I'm well aware that this has been an unusually harsh winter for most of the country.  Couple that reality with the fact that I moved to a new, more northerly climate zone this past year, and I've been just short of shell shocked by the endless Winter. 

It's not like I've never experienced snow.  It's actually been much more manageable than the conditions typically are in Kentucky, because 1) ice is a less frequent occurrence and 2) they're simply better equipped and more experienced with these types of conditions north of the Ohio river.  It's really more that I've never experienced such a prolonged duration of snow cover.

Since December 1st, the ground was covered with between 1 inch and many many many more.  We got a couple of days of thaw at the end of December, then back with the snow.  Likewise, in January, it warmed up for about 1 day, enough to rain, melt much of the snow, then whammo, back to snow.  Finally, last week, spring began to make an early appearance.  We had a few days in the upper 40s and 50s, and the snow melted from my yard enough to find the two months worth of dog poop that lay beneath.  So, we're in the clear right?

Wrong.

Tonight, we're getting, drum roll please, more friggin' snow.  You'd think after 8 months here, that some of this hardy Midwestern attitude would have rubbed off on me, but you'd wrong again.  If anything, it's merely strengthened my resolve to move closer to a hurricane zone.

Another pitfall of our new location?  We're in the no-man's-land of weather forecasting.


See that purplish line between the distinct teal marked 1-3 inches, and the distinct pink labeled 4-8 inches?  Yeah, that's us.  Unless there's some isolated weather event targeted directly at our community, the weather report goes something like this: "In the Indy metro area, we're expecting 1 to 3 inches of snow.  South and east of the city will get rain.  Our viewing area to the north can expect 4 to 8 inches of snow".  So, where do we fall?   Clearly in the 1 to 8 inch range.

Don't get me wrong, it's been nice to have a new experience.  And the relentless teasing from our friends and family, (who are obviously intellectually superior), is always a source of amusement.  But I'm ready for this part to be over.  Just like everyone else.  Bring on the vitamin D, gardening, sunscreen, swimming pools, and complaints about the heat!

Oh yeah, I started a blog

Hmmm....it's either time to write something on here, or give it up huh?  Shit or get off the pot as they say.

The original intention of this forum was to keep family and friends in the loop about our short people and happenings.  Since most of the world as I know it, is on Facebook, I've done little to keep up with this.  That, and I find the process of digging through our pictures, copying them to a secondary location for upload, then arranging them in this format, ever so slightly tedious.

SIGH.

So, to continue or not?  My level of motivation remains to be seen.  Even with my fairly regular interaction with people I care about on FB, I have a growing sense of distance because the geographic gulf between us.  And while I've met many great people, I'm not accustomed to the process of starting over, reestablishing all of my relationships at once.  I guess that's the price you pay when don't move the first seventeen years of your life, and go straight through one set of elementary, middle, and high schools.  Straight through.  There's plenty of folks on FB that I've known since I was 5 or 6 years old with the same experience.  So, perhaps the benefit of this is that my kids will learn some adaptive skills that I lack?  Yeah, that's the ticket.

So for now, onward I guess.  Until the next slice of "know me!" "hear me" "see me!".