My little mini me
Today we got some news at my daughter’s eye appointment, and I’m still trying to process it.
She has severe bilateral strabismus — which is the medical term for what most people call “lazy eyes.” In her case it’s affecting both eyes, and the treatment plan is going to be a long one.
For the next six months she’ll wear glasses to see how much correction they can achieve. After that, they’ll likely start patch therapy, where one eye is patched to force the other eye to strengthen. That could last about 12 months, and if the eyes don’t properly align after that, surgery may be needed. Then the process may repeat for the other eye.
So realistically, we’re looking at about a three-year journey of glasses, patching, appointments, and possibly surgery.
She, of course, focused on the exciting part first — she’s thrilled to get glasses. Kids can be funny like that. But then the worry crept in. She quietly asked me if kids would make fun of her for wearing them.
That part crushed me a little.
She’s already been dealing with a bully at school, something we’ve been trying to navigate and work through. And now this is another thing that might make her feel different.
Logically, I know this isn’t the end of the world. Strabismus is treatable. Kids go through this every day and come out just fine. She’s strong, resilient, and far braver than she realizes.
But hearing your child ask why they “can’t just be normal” is the kind of sentence that cracks a parent’s heart open in a way you can’t really prepare for.
We’ll walk through the next three years together — glasses, patches, appointments, whatever comes. She won’t face a single step of it alone.
I reminded her of something important — Mommy wears glasses too. I told her glasses aren’t something to be embarrassed about. They help our eyes do their job, they make the world clearer, and sometimes they even make us look a little cooler.
She looked at me for a second and said, “So now I get to be like Mommy?”
And that moment completely melted my heart.
I just wish I could take the hard parts for her. ❤
She has severe bilateral strabismus — which is the medical term for what most people call “lazy eyes.” In her case it’s affecting both eyes, and the treatment plan is going to be a long one.
For the next six months she’ll wear glasses to see how much correction they can achieve. After that, they’ll likely start patch therapy, where one eye is patched to force the other eye to strengthen. That could last about 12 months, and if the eyes don’t properly align after that, surgery may be needed. Then the process may repeat for the other eye.
So realistically, we’re looking at about a three-year journey of glasses, patching, appointments, and possibly surgery.
She, of course, focused on the exciting part first — she’s thrilled to get glasses. Kids can be funny like that. But then the worry crept in. She quietly asked me if kids would make fun of her for wearing them.
That part crushed me a little.
She’s already been dealing with a bully at school, something we’ve been trying to navigate and work through. And now this is another thing that might make her feel different.
Logically, I know this isn’t the end of the world. Strabismus is treatable. Kids go through this every day and come out just fine. She’s strong, resilient, and far braver than she realizes.
But hearing your child ask why they “can’t just be normal” is the kind of sentence that cracks a parent’s heart open in a way you can’t really prepare for.
We’ll walk through the next three years together — glasses, patches, appointments, whatever comes. She won’t face a single step of it alone.
I reminded her of something important — Mommy wears glasses too. I told her glasses aren’t something to be embarrassed about. They help our eyes do their job, they make the world clearer, and sometimes they even make us look a little cooler.
She looked at me for a second and said, “So now I get to be like Mommy?”
And that moment completely melted my heart.
I just wish I could take the hard parts for her. ❤
100+, F
