Hello there. My name is Georgie and I’m an optical obsessive. I’m also single mother with a young daughter Molly, now four and a half years old. Don’t feel sorry for me: it was my choice to be a single parent. I knew Molly and I could count on the unconditional love and support of my family. They’ve been fantastic to me and their grand-daughter and will always look after her if work takes me away from home for a night or two. They dote on Molly and she loves them. Yes, I am in full-time work and we are comfortably off, in fact I almost own our home outright. When I receive my next annual bonus I may even pay off the final part of our mortgage. I can afford to buy nice things for Molly and myself and go on nice holidays. I don’t drive much, for reasons that will become clear, but we take taxis everywhere: these online transportation companies where you book a cheap cab at the swipe of a finger have certainly transformed our lives. As you may have guessed, both Molly and I wear glasses. But what you really want to know is why I am a self-described obsessive in the optical department. In other words, what has my journey been? How did I get here? What’s this all about?
Let me tell you my story…
Chapter 1
Georgie woke and sat bolt upright in her bed, in the dark. The air was still and no sounds could be heard throughout the house. Yet Georgie sensed that was about to change. Mothers often have a powerful sixth sense about their children and Georgie knew something was up. Still half-asleep, her hand reached out and tapped the talking clock button: it was 3am. Seconds later, she heard the cry emanating from her daughter’s bedroom. Her premonition had been right. Georgie swung her legs out of the bed in one fluid, practiced motion. As she did, her left hand reached out for the light switch, while the right hand simultaneously moved across the bedside table to grab her glasses and place them on her face. It wouldn’t do to trip or bump into anything on her way to Molly’s room. Pausing only to slip on a dressing gown from a chair next to the bed, Georgie sped down the corridor to Molly’s bedroom, from where she could hear her child’s anxious call. The door was slightly ajar and a small night light was already on. Georgie switched on the main light and moved towards the bed, where Molly sat upright, in tears. She scooped her daughter into her arms: “Oh baby, what’s the matter? Have you been having a bad dream?” Molly peered up at her mother tearfully: “I dreamt that a nasty bug was at the end of my bed, mummy. It then started to come up the bed and sat on my chest….” “Oh sweetheart, that doesn’t sound very nice. But it was all a dream. Now the light is on, shall we check to make sure there’s nothing here?” As her daughter sat in the bed, Georgie made a big show of standing up and moving over to the wardrobe. She opened the door and closed it, then came back to the bed and looked underneath it, before sitting down again. “There’s nothing there sweetie, you dreamt it and it was not a nice dream - but it’s not real. Tell you what, tomorrow we can remake the bed, using clean sheets and pillowcases so that everything smells nice. No bugs are allowed in this room!” This wasn’t the first time Molly had had the dream. After the second or third time a few months earlier, Georgie had consulted with a child psychologist about what to do. He’s asked how old Molly was and reassured Georgia that bad dreams were not uncommon for a four-year-old who had just started at pre-school. Specifically, dreams about bugs and spiders often pointed to the development of habits that a child might be resisting, like learning something new. The best response, according to the psychologist, was to acknowledge the dream’s impact while also making clear that it was a just that, a dream. Remaking the bed offered a child control over its surroundings. Since the visit to the psychologist, Georgie had followed his advice almost to the letter. It seemed to be working: in the past two or three weeks Molly had not had a bad dream and didn’t seem quite so scared as she had been the first few times. Maybe whatever she was worried about, in terms of new learning or experiences, had also been resolved.
Nonetheless, Georgie couldn’t resist adding her own little twist to the psychologist’s advice: “Would you like to spend the rest of the night in mummy’s bed until we remake the bed tomorrow?” Molly nodded solemnly. Georgie held out her hand and they walked together back to her own bedroom. Molly slipped in first, while Georgie sat on the edge of the bed, removed her glasses and placed them carefully on the night stand before turning off the light. She turned towards Molly, who had her back to Georgie and wrapped her in her arms. Molly was already asleep. Georgie closed her eyes and slowly began to relax. Just as she was about to fall asleep herself, she realised that Molly’s reflex behaviour in her bedroom just now almost exactly mirrored her own actions a minute or so earlier, when she had put her glasses on as she got out of bed. As she’d entered Molly’s bedroom and turned on the overhead light her daughter had also reached over to the bedside table and automatically picked up her own glasses, placing them over her nose to peer myopically at her mother. She clearly needed them to see properly. In fact, Molly hadn’t taken them off even as she got into Georgie’s bed and was still wearing them as she slept. No point in trying to take them off Molly’s nose now, but they would probably need to be bent back into shape tomorrow - not for the first time, Georgie smiled to herself dreamily. Thank God the pair she’d bought could withstand this kind of rough treatment! Even so, maybe it was time to buy Molly another pair, Georgie pondered sleepily, as her eyes closed and she began to drift off herself…