I was putting my kids to bed the other night-I have a special good night routine, an unchanging ritual for each of them. They all vary from one another except at the end. I always say "I love you" before walking out of their rooms. They usually respond with an "I love you too." I say usually, because lately, my three year old has been adding her unique spin to it.
Me: "Night night don't let the..."
Zoe: Bed bugs bite."
Me:"I love you too"
Then, as I was turning to leave...
Zoe:"I love your breasts and your glasses." she smiled, put her thumb in her mouth and turned over...
My breasts and my glasses? O.k., I kind of understand the breast thing. Zoe has always been fascinated with them. When she was eighteen months old, she started putting little beanie baby toys down the front of her shirt. I thought that she was just being clever, that she had found a great way to carry her toys around. I even complimented her on this. "Hey Zoe-you are so smart! You figured out a way to keep your hands free and still carry your animals around...good for you!!" She looked at me(like I just didn't get it) put her hand on her animals and said "BREASTS!" So, I can understand her love of mine(sort of) They are interesting "sticky out" things-and she would like a pair of her own. (as a side note-I've got nothing special-just a standard issue set) But my glasses? I have a hard time comprehending that one...
When I picked out the frames for my glasses, I made the horrible mistake of having ALL of my children with me. Needless to say, I was a little preoccupied and not paying enough attention. I think that the sales clerk pulled a fast one. Seeing that I was so distracted, she convinced me that I "LOOKED FABULOUS!" in a wire rimmed pair that I had grabbed in an effort to just be done with it. I believed her. I did not realize that she was trying to unload back stock from 1973. When I returned to pick them up two weeks later, this time without children, the salesperson was nowhere to be found. She was probably hiding. I put them on and caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked...well, does anyone remember those horrible macrame wall hangings popular in the 70's? The kind with owls on them? These glasses gave me the appearance of a person who could have designed them...as a self portrait. For some reason, the lenses make my eyebrows look unusually large and tufted. I seem to be perpetually startled-maybe because of the enormous bushy growths coming out of my forehead? I needed these glasses. So, I convinced my self that they weren't that bad. Perhaps I just needed to get used to them-perhaps I was over exaggerating. I walked over to the register to pay for them. The salesclerk gave me the total, and said "Are you o.k. with the amount?" "Yes...,Why do you ask?" "Because you look so surprised." "No, I sighed..it's just my eyebrows." I quickly left the store keeping my head down.
Zoe's admiration of my glasses confuses me-and she is not the only one. Oscar adores them as well. They are a frequent topic of conversation for him. "Mama, you're wearing your glasses?" "Mama you have your glasses?" "Are you wearing your glasses mama?" "You have your glasses on mama?" "Glaaassssessss." I am just thankful he doesn't comment on my breasts.
So now, I am faced with a bit of a problem. It is time for new glasses. How is this change going to affect my kids? I am the first face that they see in the morning and the last that they see at night. Sometimes, changing something as little as my glasses, can have a big impact-and sometimes, it does nothing at all. I am going to risk it. I am weary of appearing perpetually bushy eyed. This time though, when I go to pick out my new frames, I am leaving the kids at home.