Zozo and M

Zozo update: She had an uneventful night, getting lots of good sleep and waking up pretty happy this morning. She was quiet on the way to school, thinking about how the day would go with the cast and sling, I think. She'll miss water day today as she can't get the cast wet, but her old Bunny Room teachers were thrilled that she'd be spending some time with them (and I think she was excited, too) while her Bear Room friends ran through the sprinkler. She didn't push me out the door as she normally does, "Because, Mommy, I usually push you with two hands and right now I can't," but she was pretty matter-of-fact about it and just wanted me to leave so she could eat her Rice Krispies.

The bath last night went okay. She cried and was in pain, but it wasn't nearly as awful as when the docs were manipulating her arm. And she was perfectly fine while M re-wrapped the cast which is a huge step forward. I think she's on the mend.

She got visitors last night. Thanks to Grandma and Grandpa-who-live-behind-Zoe's-house for the balloons, the dancing flower and dinner. And thanks to Kaitlyn and her mom for the balloon, stickers, magnetic doll and Mike & Ike's. The minute Kaitlyn hit the door she started jumping up and down and screaming. Then they took off to play. The sling was pretty much off the cast most of the time, but she did okay. It was good to see her moving and happy.

My haircut appointment was last night. I now have an adorable new stylist who weighs about 90 pounds and is so tiny I could break her in half over my leg, but she's very cool and gave me a cute cut and I like her. I now have significantly less hair than how I started the day, and it feels great. Zoe laughed when she saw me and said, "Mommy, you look silly!" M scowled and didn't say anything. Poor boy. He prefers long hair on his women and I just refuse to participate. I figure I make up for it with the boobage, though, so he should consider himself lucky. (This is the point in his reading where he shakes his head, looks at me and says, "Where did I find you?") (He's been saying that a lot lately. I've been on a roll, apparently.)

I sat back and watched M re-wrap Zoe's arm and cast after her bath last night, and I was amazed yet again. This man, this man who comes in from cutting the grass all foul-smelling and covered in clippings and dirt, who goes out in rainstorms with a cooking spoon to clean out the stopped-up gutter, who kills bugs without batting an eye and fishes the remains of mice out of the sump pump and builds things with his own two hands and re-wires things that require re-wiring, this manly man, was so gentle and tender and purposeful and sweet that I was blown away yet again. I was reminded of how he was the one who had to swaddle Zoe when she was an infant because I couldn't do it without a hand or a foot sticking out and worrying that I was wrapping her too tight and omg what if she can't breathe. He has that surety, that purpose, that innate sense of "this is how things are done and I am just the person to do them."

It's pretty damn cool to be impressed over and over by someone you've known almost half your life.