You know that saying? The one that goes “if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry?”

Yeah. That one.

A few weeks ago I busted my knee. I mean really, truly, not-allowed-to-drive, can’t-leave-the-house, busted my knee.

I did it just four days into the ski season.

I could cry. About not being able to ski. About the daily frustration of being on crutches, having to ask for help and rely on other people. About the pain, and it all being a giant pain in the arse.

But I’m a glass-half-full kind of girl. I prefer to laugh. To stay positive. To search for silver linings.

Drop Off Zones are a definite silver lining – it’s like having a chauffeur with 24/7 valet parking. And disabled toilets – no more queues for the ladies. (On a side note – I’d like to point out that being in a hurry or having two or more non-nappy wearing children isn’t actually a disability.)

But best of all is the opportunity to finally install the upgrade to Kids 2.0. You know, the one where they learn to do things that are actually useful.

Like keeping all their crap off the floor so I don’t bust the other knee.

Like learning to use the washing machine (ours still has knobs that turn which in this day and age of tap and swipe did cause some confusion at first), and pegs.

Like changing their own sheets – and that you do in fact have to take the cover off the duvet before putting it in the washing machine.

And how to make their own lunchboxes.

They’re learning how to grow up. How to manage themselves and function in an adult world. And I’m learning to let them. Because while doing everything for them seemed easier – and certainly took less time and a lot less nagging – it wasn’t doing them any favours.

I’ve got surgery and a long rehabilitation ahead of me, but it’ll all be worth it. Because I’ll come out the other end with a new knee, and kids that know what it takes to function in the real world.

Now that’s a silver lining.