Juggling & Safe Socks

What a week! Parenthood is a process, and I have recently entered the stage where you learn to juggle three kids, errands, homework, meals, bills and your sanity. With my co-captain in Arizona, it's been tricky, and I have to admit I no longer consider myself much of a juggler. The addition of a new ball, baby Ryan, has thrown me off balance, and I often find all balls crashing to the floor. One ball in particular never stands a chance, the sanity ball. Lumped into this one are exercise, personal time, rest and relaxation. It's a heavy ball and hard to grasp, and thus, always the first to go. Unfortunately, when your sanity fails, so does your desire to juggle. I remember going through this after Jack's birth, though, and I hold onto the hope that I'll adapt once again. With the additional of each ball, your coordination improves, and I know the Jodi who once sweated the juggling of one child would be impressed with how much I've grown. So what renews that desire when the juggling fails? All it takes is a smile:

After touting the three boys to Cookie Cutters and managing meltdown-free haircuts for the first time ever, I was feeling good about my parental progress. Then, yesterday, disaster struck. Ryan had an unusually fussy morning. When none of the typical soothing methods appeased him, I stripped him down for a relaxing bath. That's when I noticed his middle toe was swollen and red. A tiny sock thread had wound itself into a tight knot in the knuckle between the distal and medial phlanges (Just ignore me... I've been studying exercise anatomy for my personal training certification). 

To my utter horror and stupefied astonishment, the thread had knotted so tightly, it had dug into his skin and was impossible for me to cut loose without piercing his toe further. After several failed attempts, amidst the pained shrieks of both Ryan and I, I dialed Rich for help. Within minutes, he had me calmed and clear-headed again and aunt Karen sent to the rescue. She watched the boys while I rushed Ryan to Insta-care. To my dismay, they didn't numb him. The remedy involved 10 horrifying minutes of me pinning a screaming Ryan into my chest, while the doc dug into his now bloody toe multiple times attempting to sever the thread. Yes, 10 minutes. Pure torture. Has anyone else experienced this? I'm now considering starting a campaign to promote "safe socks." Anyone in? :)