glasses, braces and oh my

I’m a contact virgin. I’m the nerdy kid who always wanted to wear glasses and braces, and I never got to wear either.

Well, I used to roll up aluminum foil and mold it around my teeth to pretend I had braces, but I never actually got to officially wear real ones, I just sort of got to pretend to wear them.

But last year, I for-real got a prescription to wear glasses. And I really, really love them. In fact, I just got a new pair with the same prescription so I can mix it up a bit.
Photo on 6-20-14 at 6.39 PM
However, I have a problem. I live in Florida and I have to wear sunglasses outside. Personally I like to wear three different pairs of sunglasses. I change sunglasses depending on the activity, and frankly progressive lenses X3 is pricey. Plus they can’t even put progressive lenses in my one favorite pair, the RayBan Aviators.

So pretty much on the weekends, I go commando. When we are bicycling, running, paddle boarding, beaching it, or kayaking, Hubs has to lead me around, point stuff out, and read shit to me.

Hubs says he is getting really tired of leading the blind.

Then there is the problem of not being able to wear glasses when I run at home, on a regular basis. Glasses fall off my face because I get sweaty. I know I could get a sports band and sports glasses and strap glasses to my extra large head, but seriously y’all, when I run I am so f&%king hot and miserable, I just want to got all Lady Godiva and strip shit off of my body.

Last week I cut off my sports bra. With scissors. Not kidding.

But back to my eyes…

And so when I run, I pretty much can’t see my Garmin.

I also couldn’t see the snake I sort of stepped on the other day. Hubs freaked and acted like it was a King Cobra snake, but really it was just a glass snake, and the shiny green kind of blended in with the black road… It really could’ve happened to anybody.

So now when I get up to run at 7AM, Hubs gets up and goes with me. Even if it’s his off-day from running. Hubs is afraid I’ll run into a pole, step on a snake, or get lost.

So… Now I got contacts.
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Can you see them? They feel weird and wiggly.

The doctor was kind of pushy but super nice, not like my experience last year, with the other eye doctor’s staff.

I learned quickly how to put the lenses in, take them out, and I learned that if they look like a little circumcised baby penises, then they are inside out. Okay, the doctor didn’t exactly describe them in this way, but I’m the mom of three boys, and I’m super familiar with penises. So if you are wondering… It’s a helpful tip.

I have bad, bad vision close-up, and far away. I mean, overall, my vision is shit, so the doctor kept pushing me toward bifocal contact lenses.

I have read that with bifocal lenses you either have crisp distance vision or crisp near vision. That you don’t get to have both. So I was leaning toward the mono vision lenses; one eye for distance, and one eye for close-up.

But the doctor kept steering me away from mono vision contacts. I was flustered. I wanted to phone a friend! I really wanted to know what my friend Denise tried, because she is like my twin. If she didn’t like the mono vision contacts, then I wouldn’t like them; if she didn’t like the bi-focial contacts, then I wouldn’t like them. That’s how it works with me and Denise.

I know, that sounds weird. But we are THAT creepy-similar-alike.

But I didn’t ask the doctor if I could use a lifeline because I didn’t want to seem like I was flying my freak flag. I know. Since when did I care about that? Something happens to me in an eye doctor’s office. I lose my backbone. I turn to butter. I get all pliable.

I left with bifocal contacts.

Right now as I sit here, I can see my computer screen perfectly. And I can’t see my dog across the room.

When I go back to the eye doctor Monday for a re-check, I think I’ll bring Hubs with me. He won’t have to go all Games of Thrones this time because I’m not looking for heads on sticks. This eye doctor and her staff were very nice. Just maybe, if I offer Hubs some car sex, and promise not to try to run anyone over in the parking lot, he’ll be my backbone and make her give me mono vision lenses.

Oh, and one more helpful tip, besides the baby penises: Don’t go to a contact appointment with your teenager. You are already an embarrassment to him by your mere existance. Therefore, your constant squinting, blinking, peering through one eye like a pirate, and asking him if your contact is hanging out, will push him over the edge.

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