shovelling 10 inches or so of snow from a spot about 20'x20' on the ice is a lot harder than it sounds. but i did it, and now we have an ice rink. pre-school size, but adequate. i actually started really enjoying the process of scooting around on the ice, pushing the shovel at top speed. call me a human zamboni. ava scooted along too, doing really well. she eventually got tired, and started falling a lot, making me very glad that i had the helmet. carter had his helmet on as well, but no skates. he did miraculously well, never falling once on the ice, despite vigorous attempts to run.

his hands are sensitive to the cold now. more than before. i know he is at greater risk for thermal injury, so i am a mitten-nazi, but he also seems to be less tolerant of cold sensations.

his injury has been a very difficult experience. for him, obviously, but for me too. it seems that as the treatment regimen tapers off to merely applying lotion as much as possible (a favorite activity), the emotional trauma has rushed in to fill its place. when it happened, i had a job to do--bandage, medicate, go to the doctor's. now that part is over, and i am left staring at him, and i am unable to stop crying. and i don't even know what i am crying about, really. it is not just relief, and not just guilt that i was not 0.5 seconds faster, and not just compassion, but something that i cannot describe.

i am pretty certain it is fear.