I've moved.

I've officially moved my blog over to: www.mattandsally.com

Come on over! :)

An Oldie, But Goodie.

Was watching old videos with the kids before bedtime tonight and came across this one of Francis dancing to the Beastie Boys as an infant. Who can resist? Baby AND the Beastie Boys? Not me.

Hey!

Our street has been in the process of getting repaved for -oh- 2 months already and from the looks of it, I'd say we have at least 2 more months ahead of us. It makes for a lot of extra dust on our cars and porch, not to mention the 7am wake up beeping from heavy machinery. But...you won't hear me complain, I'm thrilled to have a newly paved street and sidewalks. They are MUCH needed. However, even with my cheery attitude, seeing this sign a few steps from my door this morning made me extra happy. I love my neighborhood.

I'll Take A Double.

I have worn glasses or contacts since the fall of 1982. I wore my first pair (pictured here) with honor. At a time when my older siblings wore orthodontic gear and glasses or contacts, I was happy to have gear of my own. It felt grown up.

Playing football was always a challenge. In 6th, 7th, and some of 8th grade football, I just wore glasses inside my helmet. No special sports goggles, just regular plastic and metal-framed glasses. That led to a lot of unfortunate collision incidents, and eventually I broke a pair in half and played the rest of the season blind. I was not an effective pass-receiver.

Also, as you might guess from the picture, I did not receive much attention from the ladies.

I got contact lenses in the spring of 88, when I was in 8th grade. I was not immediately more successful in athletics or romance. In fact, one girl, who we will call Amy Plumlee, asked me pointedly, "are you prude?" when I had failed to pull the trigger on several kissing opportunities. Apparently, my lack of glasses gave the impression that I might know how to kiss a girl when, in fact, I did not.

I got used to wearing contacts eventually. A little too used to it: I slept in them and wore them much longer than you should. I abused my eyes. So for the last few years, I've worn glasses most of the time, and contacts when I played sports.

Sally and I finally decided to get Lasik surgery this year. We set aside the money in the flex spending account, and made our appointments. Sally did it two weeks ago, and I did it this morning. Here's my experience.

I arrived at 11:30, and the receptionist, Olga, took my name and handed me the customary paperwork. The warning page starts with "The long-term effects of Intra Lasik (TM) are unknown." Great. Then they describe a couple of possible infections that could lead to loss of your eyeball. Not just your vision, but your eyeball. Again, great.

I finished the paperwork and gave it back to Olga. She gave me a valium at 11:55. I settled in to read about the superbowl, and was not at all prepared when they called my name at 12:03. That was my first-ever valium, so I didn't know what to expect. Evidently, I should have ordered a double.

I went behind the glass (the operating room is set up like a fishbowl in full view of the waiting room). The doctor introduced himself and said, "why don't you let Alex (his assistant) borrow your glasses for a minute. I took them off, as I had done a million times before, and did not think about the significance of the moment. The doctor invited me to lay on the table, amidst the millions of dollars of equipment arrayed about it.

Someone put deadening drops in my eyes. The whole process was narrated by the doctor. He warned that I would feel some pressure when they attached a ring-shaped device that would hold my eyelids open (and my eyeball still?) while they used a laser to cut a flap in my corneas. The pressure is no joke, and made me wish that I had asked for a double valium. While the pressure was applied, my vision went completely black.

The doctor narrated all of this in a tone that you might expect from an elevator operator. Fifth floor: ladies' accessories, kitchen goods, temporary blindness.

After they got the flap flapped, they hit the exposed eyeball with pulses of laser that (I guess) reshape my eye into something that will work better. That's how I found out what my eyeballs smell like when they're burning. Not totally unpleasant, but unlikely to be a marketable fragrance.

Repeat with the left eye (a longer series of laser blasts were required because of more correction needed), and we were finished. They helped me sit up, took my hairnet off, and put me in a different exam chair. "Looks perfect," said the doc. Alex handed my glasses back to me, and I had a little catch in my throat as I folded them and put them in my pocket.

Sally drove me home. They tell you not do drive the first day. I am frankly amazed at how well I can see right now. This is like a miracle.

Like His Momma.

While waiting for Matt to get LASIK this afternoon, the kids and I went across the street to Burger King for ice cream. Half way through my shake, George says "Mom, that Burger King on your cup looks like the Wendy's girl." Mind you, the last time we went to Wendy's was over a year ago. George has an innate sense for logos... and this makes his momma very proud.

"Why would they do that?"

This week Francis had her second encounter with stealing at school. A few weeks ago, she told me someone had taken her colored pencils from her locker and today she came home heartbroken at the loss of her two favorite books. She had finished SpookyBuddies and had taken it to school to lend it to a classmate. Careful to put her new bookplate in it with her name, she packed it up and was excited to share her first chapter book. She also took with her, her new book, SantaBuddies. This was something she had asked for many many times and finally received for Christmas. She was on, I think, maybe chapter 6 as of Monday. Anyway, she and her girlfriend, took their books to lunch with them (they are allowed to read at lunch time). After lunch is recess and so the girls set their books together next to Francis's lunchbox and 15 minutes later when recess was over, sadly... the books had disappeared. She has been heartbroken. She came home and started telling me the story and seemed quite composed until she got to the part about how they came back to their lunch boxes...and then she started crying. "Why would they do that? Why would someone take them if they weren't theirs?" I just hugged on her and told her it would be okay.

After gaining her composure, we worked on a plan. Francis LOVES plans. She thrives on charts and graphs, etc. So, she decided we should make signs "like when a dog goes missing" and post them up around her school. The signs were made, and went up yesterday. I was so proud of her. She took them to school, went to the office and asked the principal if she could hang them up and then proceeded to put them in the cafeteria, library, office and music room. She said that today she's going to put one up in the art and science rooms. I can not tell you how both sad and adorable this experience has been to watch.

I would be shocked if the books showed up, and I suppose it is a good life lesson, but bummer... I hate she has to learn it.

Ummm...?!

I just found a small Chick-fil-a box of uneaten nuggets (wait for it)... in my purse and to make matters worse, we haven't been there in over a week. ew. Don't know if I should self loathe or just laugh.