Potty Wars, Part 1: The Opening Whistle! 🚽🤣
Sunday, October 18, 2026 — 6:30 AM
Note: This is late but I’m still here. My stroke shall NOT run me. I run this/my life. Today is meant to bring you a smile. Be encouraged. Laugh if you can. Smile even when/if nothing is 😁 funny!
Beloveds,
I have discovered something.
Some adventures begin with somebody packing a suitcase.
Some begin with a beautiful sunrise and a highway stretching out before you.
And some begin when you look at your potty chair and realize that apparently, you have been drafted into an athletic competition without your knowledge or consent.
HA! 🤣
Welcome to the Potty Wars!
Before anybody starts organizing a parade, let me introduce our officials.
Well, one official.
Ref Pain.
You may remember him.
Black-and-white stripes.
Referee cap.
Whistle.
And enough audacity to make you wonder who approved his application.
He has PAIN written across the back of his uniform, just in case anybody might mistake him for somebody bringing refreshments.
He is not bringing refreshments.
He is bringing opinions.
And whistles.
LOTS of whistles.
Now, beloveds, I could tell you that learning to do familiar things in unfamiliar ways has been a lovely, graceful experience.
I could.
But some days I would be telling you a great big whopper!
Sometimes what once seemed simple becomes complicated.
Sometimes an ordinary chair becomes part of a grand adventure.
Sometimes just getting comfortable, finding your balance, or figuring out what works requires a degree of determination that nobody watching from the outside can quite measure.
And sometimes your body decides to register an objection.
LOUDLY!
Enter Ref Pain.
TWEEEEET!
Excuse me, sir!
What exactly is the penalty?
Trying?
Learning?
Wanting to do something for myself?
Apparently Ref Pain believes that every effort requires his personal commentary.
I disagree.
I have paperwork to file.
🤣
But underneath my silliness, there is something I want to tell you.
Learning to live differently does not mean your life has become less yours.
There may be things you do another way now.
There may be things that take more thought, more care, more patience, or more help than they once did.
That does not make the life you are living a lesser life.
And needing help with something does not erase the dignity of wanting independence where you can find it.
Beloved, perhaps your potty war has nothing to do with a potty chair.
Perhaps yours happens when you get dressed.
Perhaps it happens when you try to get out of bed.
Perhaps it happens when you need to ask someone for help with something you once did without giving it a thought.
Or perhaps your battlefield has no furniture whatsoever.
Perhaps it is a conversation.
A responsibility.
A disappointment.
A morning when getting started feels like an Olympic event.
Whatever it is, I want you to know that I see the courage in trying.
Not just in succeeding.
In trying.
Because there is something beautiful about a person who is willing to meet life where it is rather than pretend it is somewhere else.
I have learned that balance is not merely something you do with your body.
Sometimes balance is knowing when to keep trying and when to rest.
When to laugh and when to cry.
When to accept help and when to try something for yourself.
And sometimes balance is deciding that Ref Pain can blow that ridiculous whistle all he wants, but he is not the author of your story.
God is still with us in the ordinary moments, too.
Not just the magnificent ones.
Not just the ones that produce applause.
He is present when the room is quiet, the task is difficult, and nobody else has any idea what this particular moment requires.
And beloveds, THAT matters.
So here we are.
The chair is ready.
The referee is overconfident.
The whistle is polished.
And I believe I hear somebody asking where the scoreboard is.
Oh, we have a scoreboard.
But first, somebody please tell Ref Pain that this is a family establishment and he does not need to blow that whistle every time somebody moves!
The opening round has officially begun.
And there is more to this story.
A LOT more.
Because apparently Ref Pain has been practicing.
And he’s about to get entirely too pleased with himself.
See you at NOON.
still here,
Cassandra
you matter to me. 🧡
