No one is perfect.  Most especially parents.  Really we are just trying our best to make it through the day unscathed.  With that being said, we've all got little secrets that have helped us maintain our sanity.  So, I thought I'd do a little confessing today. 

I don't really remember potty training my first two kids.  There are many things that the brain just doesn't hold on to, probably because it's better to not remember some things.  Potty training is not very fun depending on your kid.  I do remember my son picked it up pretty quickly, but I'm not sure how much his pre-school had to do with that.  He was my first so I didn't have anything to compare it to. 

My second (oldest daughter) took a little longer.  She just wasn't really interested and then when she was almost 3 she just did it.  Just like that she decided she wanted to use the potty like a big girl.  I've seen so many people stress about potty training - fighting their child and/or really struggling.  I'm convinced that when they're ready, they're ready.  So, if you start too early you'll just end up fighting them and making yourself miserable until their ready.  As a good friend told me - 'They are not going to be wearing a diaper when they're 10, so who cares'.  Yes.  Exactly.  Pick your battles and don't stress.

Well, the third one came around and we were just lazy.  They were working with her at school, but that was only 3 days a week.  She would then be home 4 days a week and I would put her in a pull-up because I didn't want to deal with it while running errands or doing family things.  Her teachers were so great and didn't really say much.  So, one day I just decided to send her to pre-school full time for awhile for the sole reason of them potty training her. 

It really made so much more sense - she stayed in her small room with a potty no more than a few steps away at all times, clean clothes in her backpack and teachers who made her go often.  I was just not good at that - I would forget and she would have an accident or I just put the pull-up on.  Lo and behold she potty trained quickly and after awhile I sent her back to pre-school only 3 days a week. 

So, yes, I sent my kid to full time preschool so they would do all the hard potty training work for me.  That's my confession.  It really was win-win.  Baby LOVES going to pre-school, and now I don't have to buy pull-ups any more.  Now, just to work on getting out of night-time diapers . . .

Parenting three kids is overwhelming.  Especially now when they are all in such different developmental stages.  The older two understand certain things and are capable of certain limits and jobs, whereas the youngest isn't.  So, it may seem like she 'gets away' with stuff, which sets off wailings of how unfair and mean we are.  And, of course, like all children they argue about just about anything.  They do get along, but boy do they love to argue.  And, it seemed the arguing and not listening was just getting out of control.  

Two weeks ago as I was happily jogging down a very non-descript, quiet street, my foot happened to land on a stupid, flattened, pinecone and down I went.  Kind of like when a toddler is running with no possible expectation that they could fall, but then they do - down like a sack of potatoes.  I fell hard and onto the pavement with my left knee and wrist taking the brunt of the force.  Except that as an adult I have farther to fall than a toddler and I"m not made out of cartilage.  I could almost hear those tendons stretching like an overextended rubber band.  I sat there in the middle of the street for a minute thinking, 'did that actually just happen? Am I actually sitting in the middle of the street'?  Then I stumbled to get up and realized that my ankle was not in good shape.  And it didn't improve after a few steps, and it hurt.  Bad.  A few unsteady steps later I realized my knee was also scraped and it turned out to be terribly bruised.  And then I began my almost 1/2 mile walk home.  I don't usually bring my phone with me while jogging because I usually just go around the neighborhood across the street, but the 1/2 mile to the far side is apparently pretty far.  The person sitting in their car while their children loaded up didn't bother to say anything to me (I was in direct shot of her rear view mirror, but maybe she didn't notice the person lying in the middle of the street . . .), so I hobbled home and it became blatantly clear with each painful step that I didn't just twist it.  

I got home and told my husband I was injured.  I then I took a pathetic shower trying to stand on one leg while the hubs went to the store to get me an ace bandage.  After some tears because the pain was literally so sharp and throbbing (the hubs thinks I have a low pain tolerance, which I don't and as one point of reference , I've given birth twice and I'm pretty sure the epidural didn't work right on the first one) I sat, for most of the day because it was so painful to do anything else.  Oh, and of course my youngest was home with a fever, so thankfully my dear husband came home to bring me food at lunch and to take her upstairs for a nap.  

A sprained ankle may not sound like a big deal to most.  After educating myself on WebMD, I decided I probably had a bad level 2 sprain (3 is the worst).  It was swollen and bruised, so I went to the doctor and thankfully it wasn't broken.  As a mother of three kids, though, not being able to walk is a pretty serious problem, especially when there is a feverish toddler in the house and I was planning on doing everyone's laundry after my jog.  

I literally sat for 2 days which was nearly torture, especially with that sick toddler running around.  We watched the 'Glee 3-D' movie 3 times in one day interspersed with some 'Tom and Jerry' and 'Rio'.  I thought my brain my explode from TV coma.  After 2 days, the house was a mess, no one had any clean clothes, I couldn't do the stairs, and I certainly wasn't cooking.  I wanted to enjoy the time to be forced to sit, but all I could think about was all the things piling up that weren't going to finish themselves.  I'd rather be 'forced' to sit and relax in a Hawaiian resort.  I can do my 'Mom job' when I'm sick or my back hurts or I have a headache, but it is really hard to do anything when you can't walk.  I don't think I truly appreciated how much I run around the house constantly.  Properly functioning feet are truly a blessing most of us probably take for granted.  When do we ever notice our feet or ankles unless they are hurting, or we have an exceptionally nice pedicure? They are really neglected.

Anyway, it's been 2 1/2 weeks, and it's still a little swollen, still bruised and it still hurts to move in certain directions.  When I originally read that it will take 4-6 weeks to heal I didn't believe it, but I guess WebMD knows its stuff.  I sprained the same ankle in college, though not nearly as bad, so maybe it was already a little weakened.  Maybe this is a sign that I shouldn't be running.  Once I do go jogging again I know I'll be totally paranoid.  With a little help, the house is running as it should be.  I gained a little insight in how productive my kids can be and they obviously are capable of doing more jobs around the house. I'll do my best not to take my feet for granted anymore, especially since I won't be wearing any of my cute heels or boots anytime soon.  And I will certainly start bringing my phone with me while jogging.