No one really knows what my daughter can and can’t see. It would appear that she saw my son across the bedroom on the floor the other night when she came out of the bathroom, but had she been listening to footsteps and had mapped where he was on the floor based on that? My husband said she pointed to where he was with no difficulty, but was it just a darker (or lighter) area in the room in a location she thought he might be?
At school with her new bifocals and correct prescription, her teacher said she raised her hand to say which one of the letters was that was being held up (on a large card) and she was correct—and that was from a good distance away.
Perhaps if she was older and more willing to be “tested” on what she can and can’t see, we could do some experiments to determine what distances she could see best from and find out what she was seeing (terribly blurry blob to I can see the hairs on your nose). But she doesn’t even want to talk about what she can (or can’t) see. So we’re left guessing.
If she weren’t so infernally good at using everything else she can glean from the rest of her senses to put together a mental image of what her surroundings probably look like based in the almost four years she was sighted, we would probably know more. But she’s clever.
She’s also clever at lying. Tonight she was in the tub and there was a knock on the front door. It was a certain kind of knock after dinner on a week night which even I knew meant it was Rayan and Keira from next door to play. I went to tell them it wasn’t a good time and could they come back tomorrow? They headed home and I went back to the bathroom.
My daughter, without looking out the window above the tub—the window Rayan and Keira would walk by on the way home—told me, “I see Rayan and Keira heading home”. She alone saw them and did so in her mind because they weren’t there yet. But my daughter was confident that’s what was happening so I just let it lie and didn’t belabor the point.
Another example was on our drive home from dinner when we passed the new building at the hospital. They have the ability to light up the perimeter of the roof with bright LED colors. It’s rarely on but it was the other day and my son called out, “look mom, it’s blue!” My daughter, in a position in the car where she could not possibly see the building’s roof said, “I see it too”.
Someday, hopefully with possibly some more sight returned and a little older child, we might get some kind of description from her on what she can actually see. For now she wants to be normal like the rest of us and does her best to show she can see everything we can.
The Big Boy Update: Okay, my son has now gotten my husband playing Minecraft. He’s gotten me playing Minecraft Story Mode. And my daughter is interested in playing too. This morning he was expelling to his father how if you didn’t have enough red stone you could just go into “Creative Mode” and get whatever you needed. My husband said that he was only playing in “Survival Mode” and that going into Creative Mode was cheating. My son didn’t quite grasp why that mattered.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: This was from a while ago and rather out of the blue as we hadn’t gone bowling in a long, long time. My daughter announced, “I don’t want to go bowling ever again because the lanes are slippery and I don’t want to be sent back by the lever” (the lever meaning the ball return)
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