Between the fact that my car died and we can't take Lily to the pool, we've been house bound. It's been nice to have some slow lazy days (it would be better to have a car to go to the library with, though).
Lily is doing surprisingly well. She should be able to get her stitches out next week. Trying to keep her still has been a little difficult. She doesn't seem to be at all afraid of dogs, but is nervous about going to the bathroom by herself. She also doesn't want to look at her stitches or have anyone except Rob and I look at them. I really think that she would like to erase this memory from her "memory box."
I am glad that she seems to have no residual fears. I am not having such luck. I have always had and loved dogs, but I am finding it hard not to throw myself between any dog and my children. When I was walking last night, I passed a boxer who put his ears back and stared at me. For the first time I was nervous around a dog. My tongue went dry and my heart started racing. Maybe it's because I was the one who got Lily away from the dog. I was the one who came around the corner and saw the dog pulling on my baby's arm through the trash. I still don't know how I got the dog to let go. By the time everyone (it is nice to have a big family) got to us, I was holding her tight.
Once we got to the ER, I tried to calm myself down by thinking up jokes about "dumpster diving with a Beagle" and "smelling like I'd been on a bender," but this time jokes didn't help. Seeing my amazingly brave little girl did. I really believe that my girls are gifts, I'd have another child in a heart beat if we could afford it. They make me strong and they keep me centered. Even at their worst, they are perfection in my eyes (just don't tell them I said that, I'd never hear the end of it).
I knew we were lucky, but didn't realize how until I saw the bruises on her face and belly. It could have been so much worse., but my heart still broken when I saw the marks on my baby's perfect skin. I lay there that first night and just stared at her. Her little arm propped on a pillow and her bruised face. When she turned her head, it looked like nothing at all had happened.
Serious doesn't last long around here. By the time we headed home, we were telling jokes again. I told Lily my favorite about the tomato who steps on the one who falls behind and yells "Ketchup!" Lily loved it, after she stopped belly laughing, she said "I get it, the concept is we eat squished tomato, ketchup." Rob looked at me in wonder and said "She's fine, huh?" Yeah, she is.
Of course, now I am spending my days telling her to watch her stitches and coaxing her to take her medicine while she barrels through the house asking a million questions. She hasn't missed a beat. She really is pretty amazing.