My darling daughter. The poor thing has the grace of her mother and usually hurts herself at least once a day. But today’s was quite different.

We starting potty training Daylan on Saturday. She was getting the idea down and we continued on Sunday. Monday we took a break and she went when she wanted to which was just once. Not a problem.

Yesterday, she asked me two different times to go to the potty, both times to pee. This mom was stoked. So that second time I was in the middle of making myself a cup of tea. I had just set the timer to allow it to steep when she came into the kitchen: “Mommy! Potty!”

Together we ran to the bathroom. She grabbed her potty seat and helped me put it on the potty. We took off her diaper and she climbed up on the seat. Smiling as she said, “Bubbles!” I gave her a five and she finished her business. I helped get her dressed and she took off down the hallway running. Why? Because there’s chocolate involved in the Hofer potty training methodology. And who wouldn’t run for chocolate?! I know I do!

It just so happened that even though she has an athletic and strong frame, sometimes her body cannot keep up with her long legs.  She made it almost to the kitchen where the M&Ms were waiting.

At that moment, Daylan tripped over her own feet and began to fall. How lucky she was that the corner of the kitchen door frame caught her fall. Door frames obviously don’t have arms, so the sharp corner met her upper left forehead area and split.

I knew it was bad when she didn’t start crying at first. She had sucked in air. That was it. I ran down the hall grabbed her up and held her head straight against my chest without even looking. I knew. My heart was in my gut. I could feel every pulse of  blood rushing through my entire being.

Oh My Gosh. What do I do with this?!

I hollered for Dietrich to grab a towel. Of course at 4 he didn’t understand which type of towel… or maybe in my frantic state or mind I didn’t describe exactly what I needed. So he ran to grab a different towel (white of course) and brought it to me.

After cleaning her head up some, I saw the slice was pretty deep and we headed to the ER.





That’s my first experience with ER visit for a child’s accident. So today I began thinking about how many times my parents took me to the ER. I know it had to be more than I can count on my hands and feet. How they must have felt? How I felt.


I was sad. For the wrong reasons, I’m sure. Sad that we had come this far for potty training and she was so excited. Will she forever associate potty training with pain?

Sympathetic. While I’ve never had a gash like that myself that required stitches or glue, I do know pain. I may look strong on the outside, but real pain such as this just broke every piece of me.

Panicked & Scared. It takes a lot for me to panic. I’m not sure I have panicked much while being a mother. Motherhood has just come so naturally for me that I’ve been fortunate to not have to deal with my own feelings.

But a dear friend of mine helped me in a moment I needed. She changed my perspective and a perspective that God’s been trying to teach me over and over again. “Focus on Daylan” is what she said. I translated that to what God is teaching me: “It’s not about you, Danielle.”


How dare I even think about myself when my daughter is the one who is probably:

Panicked & Scared. She was getting M&M’s for peeing on the potty. The next thing she knew is she was in massive pain after what seemed like a normal fall. Then she was whisked away straight to the ER where she already despises those that wear scrubs (she’s had many serious medical appointments before).

Unsure. She didn’t know what was going on. Why she has a gash on her forehead. Why this even happened. For all she knew in her 2 1/2 year old mind is that she ran down the hall, fell, and is now in a lot of pain.

Sad. She was sad that her life got flipped upside down for a few moments in time. Sad that she had to be held down for awhile to get it cleaned out so it could be glued. Sad that she wasn’t allowed to wrestle with her big brother when she got home. Things weren’t normal.



So to you, Mom, who may be struggling with a hurt child on your watch– You’re not alone. Accidents happen (I’m still trying to accept this myself!).

I hashtagged the title of this post #WeGoHard because is there any other way to live this life?


Do you have any awesome stories of potty training or accidents that resulted in trips to the ER? Let’s take a moment to share down below- show some love to some Mama’s who just need a bit of reassurance and community!

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hey, i’m Danielle

I love Jesus. I love my family. And I get joy from having a front row view of people growing toward their goals because of what I’ve taught.

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