Frustration

I've lost my glasses.

We were at the swimming pool and I'd removed them to use my new snorkel (that way I can swim without having to rotate my lumbar spine right now.)

At some point between then and the shower, I realized I didn't have my glasses.

And they were gone.

Not in pool area, not in locker room, not in lost and found.

I checked with lifeguards, cleaning staff, office staff.  Even my physical therapist looked around.  I left my name at the front desk.  I called back later.  And looked again and checked back today.

Later, that is, after I found my spare pair in my car--the frames were broken, some of the UV coatings were coming off, and my depth perspective was off because of the crooked glasses.  But thankfully, I had the spare, because I'm still wearing them.

Apparently, I hadn't seen the eye doctor in almost two years so my prescription had expired.  So, I'll wear the spare for two weeks--the eye doctor is very busy with back-to-school--then get the prescription and get new glasses.

Could be worse, surely, but it is a bit annoying.

Almost has me considering Lasik.

Tidbits

The kiddos love to frolic with DP when she gets home from work. I'm instantly chopped liver, so to speak, and that's just fine. I like watching them play. Well, last night DD wanted a horsey ride on DP's back (I don't give horsey rides; I'm not the "fun mama"). She climbed up with her stuffed white bunny Amy (actually, my bunny, one of four, named after the characters in my favorite book Little Women). DS was desperate for his turn so we suggested he help out. He decided "horsey" needed to be fed. And that horsey was actually a camel. So, acting like the people he'd seen at the Bronx Zoo, he grasped DP by the chin and led her to the fake food, where he fed her broccoli. And when it was his turn to ride, DD did the same thing.

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The other day, changing DS's diaper on my legs, he complained that I scratched him. Now, like most good lesbians, I don't have fingernails and I didn't think I'd nicked him in any way. When he got up he went straight to my ankles--and the space above my socks but below my pant leg. My skin was exposed. "Scratchy," he said. My legs were scratchy. I shaved that very night. Is this how dads feel about stubble?

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I have new contact lenses. I used to wear them, starting in high school, and did for years. But when the babes were born, I had trouble with them--tired eyes, dirty hands, who knows--and so I switched to glasses. A few weeks ago, DS broke my glasses, knocked the nose piece off so that we could only superglue it and hope. And so, I went to the eye doctor and got contacts (in an improved prescription--whose eyes actually get better? I bet it's because I don't read anymore!).

DD doesn't like the contacts at all. When I got home from the appointment, she noticed my glasses were missing almost immediately. And she came up to me and roughly patted (well, that's a nice way to put it) my face and started wailing for my glasses. I told her I was wearing new super invisible glasses that would get smudged or break. But she doesn't care. And has complained everyday since the transition. I think I understand though, we had a ritual--she would hand me my glasses in the morning and I would say (or she would pre-empt me), "Now I can see you!" It's just not as fun with contacts.

I'd better not consider lasik.