The Royal Stink Eye

Everyone has received the infamous “stink eye” at some point in their life. However, “stink eyes” from an over protected, first time mom take on a whole new meaning. I am on the receiving end of these quite often and I have perfected the art of dodging the stink eye beam before it strikes.

The hits most often take place at mommy and me classes and parks. I bet you are asking yourself what spurs a “strike.” Before I answer, a little bit about my parenting skills are needed for some background.

For those that don’t know, I am a mom of two high-energy boys who are five and two years old. They are both extremely independent and social and don’t need a lot of hand-holding. I give them a lot of rope to hang themselves and end up doing a lot of seagull management once they have committed the crime. These child infractions include grabbing a toy out of another child’s hand, pushing another child for no apparent reason, throwing sand for the fun of it in another child’s face, putting sand down a child’s shirt and in the hood of their sweatshirt, or teaching other children how to jump off a four foot platform, jumping naked in a mud puddle at the park, etc. As you can imagine, the list goes on and on, because kids will be kids and there should not be any other way to exist in this world. There is nothing more special than a child’s innocence and ability to experience the world. Every parent would be a liar if they said their child hasn’t committed at least one of the listed infractions. So why even bother blabbing on about these instances…here’s why!
Most moms have the keen sense and ability to prevent these instances before they become a reality. Not so much in my world. Since I am completely blind, I miss them almost 99.9 percent of the time. Hence the STINK EYE! I come flying in once I hear the crying and try to play catch up to even understand what has happened. To the other mom’s defense, she has no idea that I am blind and always late to the game on these things. The bottom line is that I have great kids and if I have to take a few stink eyes in their defense bring ‘em on.

Just yesterday, I received a whopping stink eye and it wasn’t even from the child’s parent. My two-year-old son Ari took something out of my bag and starting running away from me in a crowded park of families. He thought he was so…cute and funny! I started sprinting after him only to trip over a little girl who could not be more than two-years-old herself. I was mortified and felt horrible. At the moment of contact, I heard a complete stranger gasp from behind. I knew exactly what he was thinking, “what is this woman’s problem.” I walked the bawling girl to her parents, said I was sorry and explained that I tripped over her. The parents were extremely understanding and said don’t worry about it. We did not see what happened; she is just tired. The reality is that it was totally my fault. The little girl was in my blind spot and I literally took her out. It took every ounce of energy in my body to not completely lose me shit. These are moments I need to stop, take a breath and remember my limitations. I hate these moments. They remind me of a slap in the face when I don’t need it. I live with my disability every day. I stare it straight in the face and accept our destiny together. But…it’s these moments that make me vulnerable and allow a sadness to seep into my pores that it difficult to shake off.

A Trip To The Holy Land

Ron and I have a short list of all the places we want to visit in the world, especially before the world of darkness parks itself in my eyes. I am so excited to announce that we are going to Israel this summer. We are just finalizing our itinerary, so let us know if you have any recommendations. I will definitely check back in after the trip to let you know how I faired exploring the holy land through my eyes.

The One Hour Flight

I’ve lost count of the number of flights I’ve taken from San Francisco to Southern California, whether for business, pleasure or a simple trip to the in-laws. They are simple in nature, straight forward, no fuss – that is until SFO shuts down a runway, as soon as the wheels lift for take off they seem to be dropping for landing, you don’t cringe if you get the middle seat since it’s only an hour flight, etc. However, all these images change when I take this same flight with two kids under five “sans” Ron. To make matters worse, I decide it is time to save money and skimp on buying my 21 month old a seat. I agree…not my brightest moment.

The truth is I am panicking inside and close to petrified of how I am going to make it home with not only myself intact, but my kids too. This feeling set in three days before the big event, which gave me the courage to stop, recognize the need to ask for help not only for myself, but my children. It sounds so simple when I type the words in black in white, but it is nothing but simple. It is an emotional game of ice hockey in my brain (do I; don’t I…).

This was a huge step for me. It was the first time I asked a complete stranger for help. It wasn’t even a stranger really; it was a huge corporation that has processes in place for people like me. There is a form with a box that reads – sight impaired / blind. It was at this moment that the tears started flowing. I was so grateful for Grandpa’s kind gesture as he handed me his hankerchief and soft touch to my shoulder telling me everything is going to be okay without saying a word. I was grateful that Noah did not see his mommy crying. I was grateful to the kind soul behind the JetBlue counter who was doing everything in his power to make this flight as easy and seamless as possible.

The good news is that we all survived the one-hour flight home. I graciously accepted JetBlue’s assistance, which constituted of the following:

• Allowing my father-in-law to accompany the kids and me to the gate

• Upon arrival, supervisor escort from the plane to baggage

• Supervisor helped secure baggage and escorted us curbside to meet our car

• The supervisor was a second set of eyes to help with the children and just navigate a high traffic international airport

I’ve done it. I can check it off my list. The truth of the matter is I don’t know who was more scared about flying alone with the two kids, Ron or me. You could have a field day arguing each one, but at the end of the day I survived. This is the message that I need to keep telling myself. There will be a million new experiences just like this one as my eyes continue to deteriorate, but I will survive. Remember, it is just a simple one-hour flight, not the end of the world.