Simplifying… me

When Mama’s sick life comes to a screeching halt. 

 

Three weeks ago I decided it was time for Jackson to say “bye, bye” to diapers and “hello” to the big boy potty.  We bought him super cool pull-ups and made any venture to the bathroom a reason for a full-blown party, treats included.  He was catching on pretty well to this new routine, and would even give a good, hearty “Yay Mommy” when I put my tinkle in the potty too.  There were plenty of accidents, but consistency is key, and I was consistently sticking his little bottom on his little potty seat every ten minutes (while consistently cleaning up all of his accidents too).

 

Then I had surgery.  My mother-in-law watched all three kids for us the whole week I was out of commission.  We sent the beloved potty chair to Mimi and Papa’s house, along with a heap of well wishes.  Mimi did her best, and I’m just grateful that she was willing and gracious enough to take our three monkeys for a whole week.  But, I’m not sure how much progress in the potty training was made.  It was pretty much hit or miss.  However, Mimi bought Jackson a package of Lightning McQueen pull-ups which have become his most prized possession.  It would be even better if he prized them so much that he wouldn’t keep doing his business in them.  One could only hope.

 

With the kids home, and Jackson full-speed-ahead into potty training boot-camp, I thought for sure we were going to get this thing taken care of once and for all.  Five days into it I got the flu.  It knocked me flat on my back for four days straight.  Production came to a halt and life stood still. 

 

While Joel was at work I laid on the couch and ran back-to-back episodes of Dora The Explorer for Jackson.  Fortunately the girls are old enough to entertain themselves, and spent hours playing with their dolls upstairs.  The kids’ lunches consisted of a few pieces of cheese in between slices of bread, and snacks - though promised - never materialized.  When Jackson napped, I went back to bed.  Then yesterday afternoon, when my strength was finally coming back to me, I heard my son in his husky, two-year-old, baritone voice announce, “Hey Mama!  I got water in my pants!”  It was at that point that I realized our potty training effort had been flushed down the commode.  We really fell off the wagon.

 

And that is not the only thing that suffered while I was sick: memory verses for school/church weren’t memorized, the house hasn’t been cleaned, there is no food in the fridge, laundry is piling up (although to my husband’s credit, he did a little laundry on Saturday and has made quite a few trips to the Safeway down the street for soup and crackers…for me), and my blog has sat seemingly abandoned for over a week.  I can’t begin to tell you how much all of these combined really bum me out.  I feel like I’ve been negligent!

 

It would be so easy to beat myself up (even though I couldn’t help being sick).  But the thing about falling of the wagon is that you don’t have to stay on the ground in a helpless heap.  You can stand up, dust yourself off and get right back on again.  I realize that with Jackson and his potty training we are going to have to start back at square one.  That’s how it is sometimes, when you fall off the wagon.  Whatever your goal may be, and whatever roadblock you may be facing, just remember to take it a step at a time.  And if you do fall off the wagon, don’t forget to climb back on, and keep moving forward.

 

I know it’s not much, but that’s all I’ve got for now!

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