By Jenny Klion
It’s February now and I’m still thinking about my fanciful New Year’s intentions, as these past few weeks have been particularly uneventful, if not a bit lackluster. You know — messy water-main breaks in my backyard, inadequate apartment heat, delinquent paychecks, etc. Though Judy’s still rockin’ and rollin’, no matter what the forecast, I’ve been keeping a fairly low profile. I’m hibernating with my wounded ego, among other things, re: the man formerly known as my Edgy Lover, along with the idea that my ex, Judy’s dad, might be taking his midlife crisis to international extremes by moving to the South of France for the next six months. Aaaah!
In an effort to see things differently, albeit vicariously, through Judy’s recent visit to the pediatric ophthalmologist, I decided I better go with the flow and try to correct my own inner vision. Judy’d been complaining about her eyes for several months; they always seemed to bother her — morning, noon, and night — and we all began to adapt to the notion that she probably needed glasses. Seeing as both her daddy and I wear glasses, and have since childhood, I guess I fell for the genetic factor — which I don’t always believe in — and lo and behold: I suddenly saw the need to nurse my own vanity in this situation. I found myself selfishly crushed by the idea of covering Judy’s huge blue eyes and extreme lashes with glasses, though she didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, she’s in constant healthy transformation: newly tall and thin (certainly no genetics happening there!), with a funky short haircut, she plans (with my reluctant permission), to get her ears pierced for her seventh birthday. All in all, glasses seemed like a natural progression for her.
It took one month to get the eye appointment (who knew?), but it was ultimately well worth the wait. The doctor, nurse and Judy were all in top form, and the entire episode was one of the best medical moments I’ve ever experienced. As for Judy’s vision and eye health: perfect (20/20) and perfect. Perfect? But … but … but apparently, there’s some kind of 6-and-7-year-old girl virus running around out there, where said youngsters either really want glasses or a lot more attention. Darn. I’d certainly been fooled, was a tad embarrassed, and with this eye-opening realization, I understood I’d been looking in the wrong place regarding Judy’s vision problem. The antidote was doctor’s orders: T.L.C.
Judy and I left cool Dr. Steele’s office happy, but confused. We stopped for glazed doughnuts at Zabar’s on our way home, and shared a sticky, sugary tête-à-tête. Judy finally admitted that she was quite let down by the news — turns out, she really, really wanted glasses. I suggested that having 20/20 vision was possibly preferable to needing glasses, but her disappointment continued on through the next morning, while she and I were getting dressed. Seems we were both sporting the same hairstyle — pigtails — and with tears brimming from those enormous, deep eyes, she whimpered, “You know, Mommy, if I was wearing glasses now, we’d look exactly alike.”
I took that as a heartwarming complement on many levels, and gave her as much tender-loving medicine as I could muster. The good news for Judy? She may still need glasses one day. The prescription for me? A solemn dose of reality, and the exact amount of corrective vision I need to trudge through the upcoming days of winter.
