Looks like I am moving to America

The Crazy Train is leaving the station June 30th. Next Stop: San Francisco.

I have been singing that theme song to "The O.C.", 'California' by Phantom Planet, for two weeks now.

So we're moving again. So we're moving again! Nothing like three cross-country moves in less than four years! This time we're heading out to the *other* coast. I never thought I would be a California girl! (Then again, I never thought I would call myself a New Yorker, either.)

I never loved living in a place like I have loved living in New York--It makes one feel as if they are really alive. But as wonderful and magical as this place can be (and let me tell you, Central Park is magical!)



New York can also drain the life slowly out of a person. The work/life balance is difficult (impossible??) to achieve here. I know too many moms who function as if single-moms, and I don't know anyone else who does not have a baby-sitter or nanny (or cleaning person) to help them out. After nine months of Carlos working crunch time (i.e. we can work you in to the ground but not pay any over time) and the AAA game he was working on being released and selling more than 2.6 million units, of *course* the company decides to close the studio. Which is fine. We see better times ahead.

New York City, we will miss you. But we are excited to see what lies behind door #3.



(Plus, I plan on learning to surf!)

Contact Lenses, Baby

About a week-and-a-half ago my nine-week-old daughter got contact lenses and could see for the first time. Getting the right prescription was difficult as her eyes, searching for something to see other than a bright blur, were quickly ranging back and forth. The doctors did what they could to figure it out and ordered her lenses. With the lenses in, her eyes stopped bouncing around like pinballs and the doctors were able to get a more accurate measurement of her prescription, and to order new lenses that would over-correct it, making her able to see things up-close, like her mommy's smiling face as I hold her.

Even the optometrist, who specializes in pediatric optometry, had a bit of a time getting the tiny lenses into my daughter's even tinier eyes. I was having a hard enough time getting drops in her eyes, and the thought of putting contacts in while she scrunched them shut tight, crying, was a daunting one. Carlos gave it a whirl ending with poor baby Story screaming hysterically, like nothing I have ever seen before. It took everything in my brain to overcome my instinct to take my baby, who sounded like she was having her skin peeled off, and run far, far away with her. I was still shaking a bit from whatever mommy-endorphins were released, hours later.

Today, a few days after that screaming fit, I held down my baby, set my jaw, and determined I would get these damn lenses in her eyes. No more monkey business. No having the optometrist rescue both me and the baby from each other.

It was difficult, and I am still not sure how I did it, but I got those lenses in. We had to calm down the poor kid between eyes--she was quite worked up--but I did it.

The role of 'mother' is a strange one: torturer and savior wrapped up into one. *Sigh*

The most amazing thing is that the optometrist said that even two years ago lenses the power that little Story needs were not available. The lenses are available just when she needs them, one of the best pediatric opthamologists was just one express stop away on the subway... I am grateful for the glimpses of the divine in these seeming 'coincidences.'

A time warp to get you up to speed...

So much has happened in the last 2 months.



I became a mother for the second time to a second beautiful daughter.





I found out my child might be blind when she was four weeks old. Two days later I found out she would not be blind but would need surgery and vision therapy. I held her in my arms for hours and hours in the hospital after double-cataract surgery when she was six-weeks old.



I bought a watch and set an alarm to go off every hour to remind me to put drops into her eyes for nearly three weeks. I held her as we put custom-made contact lenses in her eyes a few days ago, on her nine-week birthday, as she saw for the first time in her life.

It has been amazing to see the difference in her as the vision center in her brain begins to develop and she starts to make sense of the sensory input. I can hardly wait for her new, stronger lenses to arrive so that she can see my face, see me smiling at her, and have her learn how to smile back. My heart skips just to think on it.

It amazes me how even in utero I could tell how different she would be from Lyric, how special she would be... and to watch it unfold already is both beautiful and amazing. To see the deep love Lyric has always shown for her, despite all the boring doctor's visits and unintentional attention stealing... how she loves to kiss her and make up songs about how they love each other... it makes a mother's heart feel physically larger.

We've got a long road ahead of us as far as all this vision stuff is concerned. But we are lucky; her affliction is something that can be worked with and 'fixed' for the most part. Many parents receive much more difficult news to bear. Story Jane is a very special little girl, and I am overwhelmed at how lucky I am to have her as my very own.