Just Do What I Say And Nobody Has To Hear Me Sing

My girl left for school upset this morning and it took everything in me NOT to say, "Hey, who needs school anyway?  Stay home. Rest a little. Take a break." I knew, however, that her condition did not warrant such a dramatic statement, but if there's anything I hate more, it's seeing a distressed kid leave the house. I've sent her two text messages containing song lyrics to try to make her smile, but the silence of my phone indicates her refusal to smile at this point (or at least respond). Oh well. I'm sure a couple of her BFF's will do the trick for me.

The problem? Contacts. As in new contacts for the eyes. Yesterday I took two out of three kids to the eye doctor for the grand step into the world of clear vision without glasses. Needless to say, it was not as painless as I'm sure they both imagined it would be. If there's one thing about this instant world we live in, it's that when things don't happen instantly, we (the kids, me, people in general) tend to get frustrated easily. The art of patience is becoming a virtuous characteristic of the past.

They'll catch on, though, to the whole foreign concept of sticking something in the eye. I have no doubt about that. I remember my first go-round with the entire thing... I think I was my daughter's age, as a matter of fact. I wonder what my mom remembers about the ordeal. I remember frustration, frustration, and more frustration. If there's one thing I'm looking forward to about heaven (after a little baby and a little grandma, of course) it's being able to see clearly. No more bad eyesight for me.

Lasik? (you're thinking). Nope. I'm not really a candidate. Yes, my eyes are that bad. I've been advised that even with corrective eye surgery, I would still most likely need corrective lenses of some sort. I'll stick with what I've got. Jesus will come soon enough. Patience is a virtue, remember? Not to mention that the entire concept of a laser in the eye freaks me out a little. Besides, I can use that money on other fun stuff like books and coffee and the electric bill.

Speaking of books, I'm currently reading American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History. It's not for the easily offended, I can tell you that. I think the middle would enjoy the book, but I'm leery of suggesting it to him based on the language and the sheer fact that he is already infatuated enough with that type of career choice. If there's any kid of mine that I could easily hear saying, "Mom, you know I can't tell you anything about my job," that would be him.

And that's another path that my mind quickly shuts down on.

I think I'll get back to the tasks at hand:
Thinking about my girl, making another cup of coffee, and writing.

I've got a whole lot of writing to do today and it has nothing to do with this rambling blog or eye contacts or military authors. It does, however, have everything to do with a grade. One thing at a time, right? I sure hope she comes home smiling. though. I would hate to greet her at the door singing.

That would really make her cry.