Little kids with glasses can be so cute. . .

Until you find out that your kid is next.  Not the gentle, easygoing child.  Ronin.  He's a four year old little wild thing.  I don't know how we're going to keep them on that noggin of his.

I've always been that parent who takes each baby for an eye exam before their first birthday, then every 1-2 years after.  I was the kid who couldn't see until I was 8.  In January, during his yearly physical, his vision was bad enough to make the pediatrician tell me I would need a referral.  Since we are using Medicaid and it's been less than a year since the last proper eye exam, we were told it would be a bit of paperwork.

A bit of paperwork would be fine.  I called the insurance office and asked what would be needed.  I was told to go to the optometrist and have them do the paperwork.  I stopped by and they'd never heard of the paperwork.  They called my insurance and were told to have me contact the pediatrician and have them do the referral.  After several attempts at phone calls, I stopped in and was told that they'd never heard of how to do that either.   One nurse said she would call Medicaid and see what was needed.  She called me back and gave me a number to call.  When I called, I was told that patients weren't allowed to call that line.  Guess what?  I called.  I was then told that I would need to have my optometrist do the referral.  What the crap, man?  I called the optometrist and relayed this information and they told me I could come in the following Monday.

When I went in yesterday, I was told that Medicaid was only allowing a "medical" visit, so they wouldn't cover the actual vision test.  Fine, I'll pay out of pocket.  My kid's been complaining of headaches for 2 months now and it's because of his vision.

The actual exam was fun.  A few quotes:
"I can't see the weddahs because of your big fat fingas."
"I don't wike diss wine of weddahs.  Wess wead the big ones.  That's E."
"I don't know that weddah.  I know the big ones."
"I can't see it now, but I can see that weddah if I scrunch my nose and make my cute face.  See my cute face?"
"Mama reads to me so I think she should tell."
"I can't say that weddah.  It's a secret."
"Those big weddahs awe my fabrit.  Wess wead that wine again and then we can do the small ones."
"I used to wear glasses, but then I got bit by a spider on a field trip with my school.  I took his pictcha."

Then came the dilation.  Not so fun.  They put in the drops and we ran to the bank.  After about ten minutes, he was crying because I didn't look like Mama and looked blurry and I was scary.  Five minutes later, he was crying because he was "starbing" and wanted a cow tale.  We made it back to the optometrist and he refused to finish the exam.  I had to do a bit of bribing and tell him that if we didn't hurry, someone else would buy all the cow tales.

 End result: The boy needs specs.  We get to play the waiting game with the insurance company before we get them.