I get so frustrated by people who think they’re ‘helpful’ and give you parenting advice. I’m not talking about family and friends who know me and know my kids- that’s totally different. No, I’m referring to that random lady behind my cart at the check out line of the grocery store. You know, the one who asks if the boys are twins, and then proceeds to inform me that one is bigger than the other.
Generally, this same lady feels the urge to comment on Ryan’s eyes. She of course knows someone who had a kid who had a lazy eye and tells me I should bring him to the doctor and get him glasses and start patching it.
Tells me it will fix it right up.
As if I am such a crappy mother that I have never noticed any issues with his eyes.
As if we don’t bring him to the doctor all the time.
As if a little patching will cure cancer.
This little guy, with his wonky eyes, is my amazing miracle boy. He is perfect with all of his imperfections.
If only those ‘helpful’ ladies knew of how much he was wanted, how much we went through to get him here, and how incredible he is for all he can do when his doctors say that he is most likely legally blind. If they knew how astonishing he is for going through chemotherapy treatments that have brought strong, grown men to their knees with barely a whimper, maybe they would see him how I see him, instead of just seeing his ‘lazy’ eye.
They would see that he is absolute perfection as he is, crossed eyes and all.