Well, it's official. Sam NEEDS glasses. Poor little guy. He has been sitting close to the TV for the past year, but when I asked him questions to try to verify that he could see farther away, sometimes he'd get them right. Guess I need to send him to Vegas or maybe it's just that multisensory thing that people do to make up for the loss of one sense with another. It's genetic, I suppose. And it's my fault....
When I was three I walked right off the front porch at our house in South Jordan. It was a LONG drop - like 5 feet. I was knocked unconscious and my poor mother thought I was dead. It was then that they took me in to see the eye doc. Fast forward 37 years....
So, I had joked that Sam might need glasses with all the sitting right next to the TV, but in my heart I thought he could see just fine and this was just an annoying habit that would pass. The turning point was when he ran smack into Melissa's porch, fell down, and hit his front tooth right on the hard concrete. After the blood and tears were wiped away I heard myself say "it was almost as if he didn't even see the stairs"....and then the neurons in my brain began to fire as that childhood "memory" - only because I've heard the story so many times not that I remember a thing - all came rushing to the forefront as if the blood had finally returned to my brain and it was now functioning. Could it be?
It was. 450 in one eye and 475 in the other. In contact speech, that's a minus 4 in both eyes. Worse than either of his big sisters. Wow. Can I get some sort of "observant mom of the year" award?