Driving me potty no longer

Attempts to potty train: 4. Successful attempts to potty train: ONE! And that one is the one that counts. Remarkably this last attempt was surprisingly easy, a fairly smooth transition to not wearing nappies, one or two accidents and that was it. He now asks for his potty or to do a ‘standing up wee Mummy’ (the joys of having an elder brother) and he hasn’t had an accident in over three weeks now.

The standing up wee aspect is interesting. Outside, when you can get their trousers down, stick a knee in his back to encourage the thrusting forward of hips and help with guidance of the pee stream it works well. Inside the house is a different story; he is just not quite tall enough to use the loos at home for a standing up wee, which means that I need to do an interesting lift and hover manoeuvre, doing wonders for my biceps but I can’t help with the pee stream guidance aspect of the process. But who cares? He isn’t in nappies and the wee ain’t in his pants.

The ease of this attempt of potty training makes me think two things. First, the attempts made before were just too early for him, he wasn’t quite ready. Secondly, these attempts were all part of the overall process and contributed to this, more recent and relatively stressfree attempt. I couldn't care less now though, Luke has done it, he is a total superstar and I’m so proud of him.

Only one interesting story to report. A few days ago he had a quiet moment on his potty, happily reading his book, so I left him to it. When he appeared there was strong evidence that he had done a poo. He was very pleased with himself. A bottom needed wiping. There were signs of a poo having been in the potty. But there was no poo. Anywhere. I looked high, I looked low but couldn’t find anything. I’ve been wandering through the house delicately sniffing any areas which might be capable of concealing poo. But nothing. Absolutely nista. Not a sniff.

The poo is still M.I.A. I will be doing a more thorough search before the cleaner comes but I don’t think I’ll locate anything. The dog was spotted, contentedly licking her lips just afterwards. I’m not saying anything, but it wouldn’t be the first time.

Potty Training.. Round 4

The time has come. The weather is good and I can get clothes washed and dried quickly. The boys can run around outside all day which minimises mopping of floors and washing of sofas. We are not going anywhere for a while (actually given the state of our finances we are probably never going anywhere ever again). He is old enough, he knows what a potty is for, he has been known to use it. He is ready.

The current score is Attempts to Potty Train 3: Successful Attempts to Potty Train 0. Notwithstanding that sad statistic and remembering that it is the final attempt that counts, we are going in again. Luke, prepare to bid those nappies goodbye.

I'm pretty pleased that I am not alone in the bloggy world on doing battles with the nappies. Maternal Tales and Moaning Mum are also in the throes of it. I wish them luck in their venture and a call to arms to share stories of pain together to make me feel better and see the funny side of cleaning up poo smeared all over my clothes, the sofa, the dog. Actually Maternal Tales is pretty good at this already, her tales of poo and cars reminded me not to take any long journeys until Luke is at least 6. See I'm smiling and almost looking forward to it.

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Also, the Best of British Mummy Bloggers Carnival is up and ready to go. Head over to Rosie Scribble for all the tales of the best and worst aspects of parenting.

Potty Training..it all depends on the definition

So, we are back on the potty training campaign. The current score is 2 attempts to train, 0 successes. Many of the Bosnians look at my youngest's Pampers clad bottom with eyebrows raised. 'Still in nappies?' they say. 'How old is he?'. Usually followed by something along the lines of how their children were trained by 6 weeks and then went on to invent a cure for cancer before they were 3.

But, I have realised it is all in the definition. If you call potty trained wearing pants then ta da - one toddler in pants and one very busy washing machine. If you call potty trained having a toddler that knows when he needs to go, tells you (or even better goes there himself) pulls down his trousers and pants, does the business and washes his hands afterwards and doesn't have an accident not ever then we have a whole different game on our hands.

Although it appears that the Bosnians are all potty trained by 18 months, I've actually realised that most of them are just like me. There is a fairly prolonged period of pants/nappies combo. Unlike me they don't take their kids out much during this period. I don't have a choice as I don't have a local Granny or massive network of willing babysitters to look after the kids. So mine come with me wherever we go. And in the interests of not being a health hazard Luke is sometimes in pants and sometimes in nappies.

I think Luke will reach my version of potty trained (the one that doesn't require the washing machine to do 6 loads a day) at the same time as the Bosnian kids. Now I've finally realised that, I can smile serenely, let the little digs pass over my head and can genuinely say that I'm so very proud of my little boy's progress so far. Yesterday, he managed a standing up wee, next to his brother. 2 little white bottoms peeing down the hill. It is the new state of Nirvana.

potty training...

It's back to life back to reality for the kids as they were officially classed well enough to go back to nursery, leaving me with a packet of tylolhot and some ibuprofen to get through the morning.

For Luke this means a restarting to potty training. Now he is 2 the Bosnians believe that he is more than ready to use the potty, so at nursery that is what he does. They are right, he probably is ready to start potty training. The thing is, I'm not. It is so much more difficult to do during the winter. Dealing with accidents is not too bad during the summer, but not feasible on a winter time dog walk with 2 pairs of trousers and some waterproofs on as well.

However, potty training has started at nursery, and I need to reinforce the lessons being taught, so potty training we must go. I will have to adapt to a more gradual training process than the from today there are to be no more nappies ever process I used with Adam (British Mummys won't be surprised to know that this is a Gina Ford recommendation). But it is a process that must be gone through and I am not particularly looking forward to it.

One of those days

Big grump and bah humbug from this particular Brit. Just had one of those days where nothing goes right (well almost nothing). The role of mother was reduced to that of a boxing referee. The house is both a pigsty and a perennial black hole which sucks in useful things and puts them somewhere were no sane person would ever think to look. Actually that might not be the house's fault, there may be some toddler interference somewhere. Lots of people were out picnicking in the unseasonal sunshine, which makes walking a food obsessed dog stressful. Said food obsessed dog then careered down a hill and strained a paw leading to a trip to the vet. Nothing wrong with the paw said the vet (yay!) but she needs some nails clipped as they are bothering her (not so good). Nails were clipped a little too close for comfort leading to a small blood bath in the back of the car. Now call me old fashioned but surely a trip to the vet shouldn't end up with me wiping blood off the floors and bandaging up the hound? Then, just as we were settling down for dinner an enormous explosion rocked the house. Turns out that someone had let off a grenade at a bakery down the road - apparently the police have arrested the people involved, all to do with an argument that got out of hand. Actually, this last one didn't bother me that much, having lived in Brixton and witnessed the aftermath of a shooting just outside my front door this one was sufficiently far away to be of interest rather than a worry and the telling of the story makes it sound worse that it is.

Yes, it was one of the days where everything was irritating me. We don't have enough workspace in our kitchen to make cooking an enjoyable activity. The washing doesn't dry fast enough so there are clothes hanging up (and falling down) everywhere. The Estate Agents who are renting our house in the UK are being incompetent. My work is on a pause whilst I try and organise the next assault. We need to get cash for all the bills that are due and no one takes cards or accepts payment over the Internet. A big bah humbug and mega grump.

There was however a ray of light in the quagmire of grumpy mummydom. For the first time ever, Luke did a wee in his potty. Those of you who have not been through the hell that is potty training may not appreciate the excitement of this fact. It makes up for all of the above!