Are We There Yet?

Meet Mammaw!

I have prided myself my entire life on having perfect eyesight. (Why that was a source of pride is beyond me, but it was.) Both of my parents have poor eyesight, so I should have known eyeglasses might be in my future. Heck, turning 40 should have told me eyeglasses might be in my future. Well, they are no longer in my future...they are in my present.

Meggie and I headed to the eye doctor a little over a week ago to find out that we BOTH need glasses. (Good Mom that I am, I have only ignored Meggie's pleas for an eye exam for four years.) Meggie needs her glasses for distance vision. I gave her full permission to pick whatever frames she preferred, with no input from me. I think the ones she chose...
...look pretty cute on her. A bit bold for my taste, but definitely cute on her!

"Pretty cute" aren't the words that come to mind with my glasses. Why? Because I don't just need eyeglasses...I need trifocal eyeglasses! Seems my intermediate vision is OK, but I have presbyopia (diminished ability with age to focus on near objects, which I knew) and also a need for distance correction (which I was shocked to discover).

When I came home from the eye doctor and told my dear, sweet husband about my need for trifocals, he decided it would be cute to call me "Mammaw." (After all, trifocals do make a gal sound sorta old.) Is he the sweetest husband or what?! NOT!

I choose to believe that the face Carson is making in this picture (taken minutes after I arrived home wearing my glasses yesterday)...
...is just him being a goof and not a commentary on how I look wearing glasses. Molly loves my glasses...
...and keeps telling me how "beautiful, lovely, and fabulous" I look. (Of course, she uses those empty compliments on pretty much a daily basis to try getting herself out of trouble. It never works, by the way.)

So, now I wear glasses. All the time. And it is a weird transition. The no-line trifocals are not as hard to get used to as I feared they would be...
...and if wearing glasses will rid me of my frequent migraine headaches, then I'll embrace this new change happily.

It's a good thing that I'm so confident and mature...or this "Mammaw" stuff might start to bother me. I just wish my husband would stop asking me where I keep my denture cream...