My Faith and Joy… and Boys!

Rebecca: “Who me?  Hold my sister back? Never!”

Susanna: “Let go!  You may be bigger than me, but I’m faster!”

I noticed today that the girls like to stick together when they’re playing.  Even when they have a large area to explore, they tend to cluster in the same corner.  I suppose that their comfort in close quarters makes sense, given that they were nose-to-nose (or head-to-rear or foot-to-forehead) for over 7 months.  I sometimes wish I still had sleeping in the same crib, just so I could see them snuggle.  But then I remember why I separated them in the first place: nose-to-nose positioning turns into finger-to-eyeball, head-to-rear turns into knee-to-mouth, and foot-to-forehead turns into, well, kicking foot-to-bruised forehead…which all turns into unhappy, sleepless babies, which turns into unhappy, sleepless mama.  So, separate beds it is.  And although I can’t see them snuggle in their sleep, their joint playtime kind of resembles cuddling, don’t you think?

Here’s a video clip of the girls playing in the corner of their playzone.  I’ll warn you, it’s not very exciting viewing, but it gives you an idea of how well (and how noisily!) the girls play.

Rebecca

Susanna

I took the girls next door for a swing this afternoon, but our outing received mixed reviews.  Rebecca was an enthusiastic swinger, full of smiles and squeals.  

Susanna, on the other hand, was stone-faced the entire time.  She looked as if we were forcing her to play against her will.  She simply hung on for dear life and waited for it to be over.  Once we got back inside, she perked right up.  She must have figured she’d already gotten her quota of sun exposure for the week! 

Bubba and Pappy were delighted to join the girls for a few minutes on the swing set.  A fun time was had by all (except poor Susie, that is – hopefully she likes it better next time!).      

Rebecca had a doctor appointment this morning, so I left Susanna with my mother-in-law and headed out with only one child in the backseat.  It was my first single-child outing.  I felt like I had forgotten my purse, or my keys, or an appendage – something vital was missing.  Rebecca didn’t seem to mind being an only child for a few hours; she was probably glad that she didn’t have to put up with her sister’s fussing during the car ride.  Susanna was also similarly unfazed by her sister’s absence, and seemed to appreciate  all the extra attention from her “Bubba” (grandma). 

Rebecca’s appointment was with a pediatric ophthalmologist.  She had been referred by her pediatrician, who noticed that she almost-imperceptibly tilts her head toward her left shoulder.  It didn’t appear to be a neck muscle problem because she has a good range of motion, and none of the head flattening that can occur when a child favors laying on one side.  It turns out that the pediatrician made an astute call.  Today, after conducting a brief eye exam on an incredibly compliant Rebecca, the ophthalmologist leaned back in his chair, looked at me through his stylish glasses (is that why he became an eye doctor?  To always get the latest in eyewear fashion?  Or to get free eye exams?…although it’s probably kind of hard to do an eye exam on oneself…but I digress…), and said:

“Yes, your daughter does have a very mild case of Superior Oblique Palsy.  She got it from you.”

I nodded thoughtfully and assumed that he meant “she got it from you” in the same way that she got her clavicles from me – she got everything from her father and me. 

The doctor continued, “Did you notice that your daughter’s left ear is lower than her right ear, just like yours?”

Me: “Um…no…”

Doctor: “Do you notice that you tend to lift papers up to read, rather than reading them flat on a table?”

Me: “Yes, but…”

Doctor:  “Do you hesitate when you first put your foot down on the top step of an escalator?  Do you tend to sit on the left side of a couch?”

Me: “Yes…I do…”

Doctor: “You also obviously have a very mild case in your right eye, like Rebecca.  It’s a common condition – about 10% of the population has it.  Even Katie Couric has it – watch the evening news and you’ll see her tilting her head, especially when she holds up a paper to read it.  You probably won’t notice any vision problems in yourself until you turn 39 or 40, and then you’ll need to be sure that you don’t get progressive bifocal lenses, since that would amplify the problem, OK?” 

Me: “Um, OK.”  By this time, my head was spinning, and I was probably tilting my head to the side out of puzzlement, let alone this congenital eye defect that I’ve apparently had since birth and never knew about.  The doctor leaned back in his chair, hands folded and a bemused smile on his face, as if he never ceases to enjoy surprising people with his powers of observation. 

Rebecca and I both had smiles on our tilted faces when we left the office; she was smiling because she’s just too cute for words, and I was smiling out of pride that my daughter behaved so well during her exam.  I’m not concerned by the diagnosis, either in her or me.  It’s obviously not negatively impacted my life, and I doubt it will hers.  I apparently simply compensate for a weak right eye muscle by tilting my head slightly, and it looks like she’ll do the same.  If only all of life’s problems could be solved by looking at them from another angle! 

I had started to wonder whether my kids were going to resemble me at all, given that they look so much like their father.  Now, all I have to do is look at Rebecca, and rest assured that even if she’s an ATV-riding, car-selling jokester like her dad, she’s got her mama’s jauntily tilted head!