It's good to be home. Sada's personality is definitely returning to normal - we played board games for three hours today and she figured out all kinds of strategies to guarantee she won, then explained them all to us losers after worthily beating all opponents to the ground. The games were in lieu of reading her usual 5-7 books per day; after 2 books this afternoon, her eyes were "bouncing" and she couldn't focus on the words. Even more than the balance/vertigo, not being able to read anything and everything has been the hardest adjustment so far. For a girl who can devour a 120 page book in under 15 minutes, cutting reading time down to an hour a day to lower stress on her right eye is akin to taking the stockings down on Christmas Eve. There's something about it that's not quite right.

We had an official Christmas dinner at Grandpa and Grandma's tonight, since the middle kids are staying over there this week so Sada can have a few extra days to literally get back on her feet. Keeping the baby here is more of a therapy than anything else, since Sada pushes herself to help get the diapers, pick out clothes, burp the babybug, and all the other babysitting requirements any 9 year old needs to master. The only new rule implemented so far is No Walking While Carrying ANYTHING. That will hopefully prevent any major tumbles for her and heart attacks for the mama.

Saturday morning before we checked out of the hospital, she was washing her hands and looked up into the mirror. I had just rebraided her hair to leave her stitches exposed so we can keep an eye on them, and her only comment was, "My eyes really look strange." Tonight before bed she said she didn't like how people stared at her... and we only had our family at dinner tonight. Even I have to keep reminding myself that she's still my little girl inside, with the same 9 going on 21 brain that blasted her way past at least one nurse explaining exactly what EVD meant and what it did after the nurse couldn't remember what the acronym stood for. Her eyes are moving very independently - not because of lazy eye, but because her brain is unable to control them normally until swelling goes down, which could easily be a year. I want to wrap my arms around her and never let her go, but apparently this is one lesson she gets to learn. Jeff told her a lot of people are going to be curious because she looks different now, even if she doesn't act different. And if she's uncomfortable, it's ok to say "If you have any questions about my eye, ask." She smiled, gave hugs and went right to sleep. Jeff and I are learning grief comes in lots of levels and even the heartache of a lesser degree still stings.