1 Month Later

I look at the calendar and think "For the love of god, how is it almost februrary?!" Then I think "Wow. It has been over a month since Callie was bitten by Milo on Christmas Eve." While I don't neccessarily want to dwell on something so horrible forever I do think it is important to take stock of what we learned in the process. And learn we did!
I know Callie is a rough and tumble girl and these won't be her last stitches or her last trip to the ER. I am incredibly thankful and blessed that our family is still together, Milo included. I continue to be amazed at how quickly and how well he has taken to the new training and boundaries. Maybe he just knew his goose was cooked otherwise! I love that Callie still adores Milo so much. Every few hours she will walk up to me and ask "Pet Milo?" And Milo will roll over so she can rub his belly, which of course makes her laugh.  When I stop to think that if things had gone differently, I might not get to hear that laugh. It is moments like that, that really make you stop and take stock of everything you have and how incredibly lucky we are. Sometimes I think about re-reading my blog post about that night, but then I stop. Sometimes I think maybe it was worse in my head than it really was, but no. I actually said that to Bill and he pulled out his phone and showed me a picture he took that night when she was sleeping. The answer was definitely no, it was absolutely not worse in my head. It was that bad. It was that scary. I would never wish it on anyone. But the good part of it is that it showed us very strongly what is important and what is not. People used to tell me that about being a parent, that it shows you what is important. I thought I understood that statement, but ends up I had no idea until Christmas Eve. Until we were tested.
Callie's scars are still visible but have definitely faded. I'm sure mine will never go away. Seeing your child in that kind of situation is not easily forgotten. But I know it won't be the last time I feel that sort of panic and get in mama bear mode. Bill and I know now, that night in a nutshell is what being a parent is. It is trips to the ER when you have no health insurance or job. It is holding her tight because you don't know what else you can do to make it stop. It is bloody kitchen towels and clothes.  It is running red lights because you just don't give a damn about anything else except getting her to the place that will fix her up. It is sitting through blood and stitches and other horrible things to make her better. It is telling her over and over that it will be ok, maybe a little bit more to convince yourself than anything.  It is not caring about any other little dramas because we have enough in our arms to keep us busy for a lifetime. It is cliche for a reason, but life is just too damned short.
 We are so incredibly thankful for all the people that came out of the woodwork immediately when they found out what happened to Callie. I am thankful for my parents who stopped by everyday just to see how she was doing and to help with things like grocery shopping and errands. I am thankful most of all to Bill who kept a calm head to make sure our little family stayed together.  Poor Bill had to be the bad guy who put the antibiotic medication on her stitches everynight. I am thankful that Bill's parents stopped by Christmas morning to see her and that his sister stopped by with plates of Christmas Day with the Bunts and told us all the highlights. We received so many text messages, emails, visits and phone calls the next day. People who put their Christmas Day celebrations and holiday vacations on hold to make sure we were ok. We had people bringing us food and visiting Callie which lifted our hearts and spirits more than they can ever know. Just to be distracted from her mauled face, putting on antibiotics, cleaning wounds and the worries of what we were going to do with Milo was priceless. I don't know what we would have done without our village. It also makes me hopeful that this wonderful group of people will be there for us when Callie's sister arrives in a few short weeks. It just makes me happy that we aren't alone and there are people we can go to when the you-know-what hits the fan. There is a great comfort in that.