Fall, stand, and fall again.

Today I will write the final blog in my Falling series. For now. Until I fall again, which will definitely happen. You can find my first two falling blogs here and here.

On this fateful day, Cody was outside mowing the grass while the kids colored with sidewalk chalk on the driveway. Instead of playing outside with the kids, I was inside playing on my phone like a good mom. In my defense…

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Okay, I thought I was going to think of something while I typed the first half of that sentence, but I’ve got nothing. I have no defense. I just didn’t want to go outside.

After the kids had been outside for about 20 minutes, I heard my three year old daughter yelling for me from the kitchen. It sounded urgent. I could tell she was upset, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying. So I ran out of my bedroom, down the hall, and turned into the kitchen to find out what was wrong.

Except once I made it half way through the kitchen, I didn’t have to run anymore.

Instead, my foot landed in a giant, invisible puddle on the kitchen floor, and I went sliding the rest of the way toward her until my knees hit the wooden bench that sits along the same wall as the doorway that leads into the garage.

After recovering from the shock of my sudden slip and slide across the kitchen floor and the searing pain in my knees, I looked down at my daughter to discover the source of the puddle. Apparently she was having so much fun playing with sidewalk chalk that she waited too long to come inside and use the bathroom.

Pee. I slipped in a puddle of pee.

Sometimes having children means having to change your own clothes after your child has an accident.

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