We started potty training just after Christmas and, joy of joys, combined that parenting treat with a dose of chicken pox. Buy one hell, get one free if you will.

I went to playgroup this morning and pretty much everyone sauntered up to me and said with a moderately pained and sympathetic face “potty training….how’s it going?”. At which point I experienced a number of flashbacks ending in the horror that was the poo that was kindly deposited beside my bed this morning.

If I’m honest it’s pretty hit and miss. Sometimes he gets to the potty or toilet in time, whips his trolleys down and hits the spot. We all burst into rounds of applause and he gets a standing ovation. Sometimes he almost makes it and still gets a well done, sometimes he just looks me straight in the eye and wets himself. At that point I assume the foetal position and start rocking.

My house stinks of wee. His shoes, both pairs are washed each night, because they don’t smell of feet anymore, they smell like the stairwell of a multi-storey car park. I dream of his shoes just smelling like feet, I really do. We go through more pairs of pants than a Tom Jones concert goer. And I can’t wait for him to get it, for it to click.

He came home from nursery yesterday in what was basically a biohazard suit for toddlers. He’d gone through four complete changes of clothes. We were scared to unzip it for fear of what might come gushing out. He genuinely has more costume changes than Elton John.

Still I think progress is being made. He understands what he’s supposed to do but I think maybe sometimes he’s just shy or he just mistimes it or maybe just forgets entirely what he’s supposed to do.

But he’s over the chicken pox which is no bad thing. Just need to stop him weeing everywhere now. I’ll do another update soon. I hope it’s more positive than “he’s still peeing in the corner and we all smell like tramps”.

Potty Training – Part One

Splodge is now three years and one month old. He’s a grand lad and we have always taken things at his pace. He moved up from toddlers to pre-school in his nursery in September. Most of his fellow pre-schoolers are out of nappies and mostly dry. We’ve been getting a bit twitchy about him being behind everyone else in this regard and “helpful” friends and family have made remarks, but we were always sure we wanted to wait for him to be ready.

He’s not ready. He’s nearly there don’t get me wrong, but the Christmas holidays rolled by and it’s a time where we’ll all be at home, so it seemed like the right time to start. We’d read the books, done the theory test and when morning broke on 27th December it began.

By lunchtime we’d wet ten pairs of pants and the house was starting to whiff. Hodge was quickly dispatched to the shops to purchase more pants and some febreeze. By 2pm he was wetting himself, pulling his wet pants down and then sitting in the potty. Almost son, almost. It seems this potty training lark is all about timing.

Fed up of mopping up puddles, we headed to the swimming baths where we had a really fun 90 minutes splashing, dunking, bouncing and swimming. We got out, dried off, got dressed and headed out. We made it to reception when he did the most enormous wee I’ve ever seen, Hodge picked him up like a rugby ball and shot off to the car for a speedy change, leaving a conspicuous puddle in the reception area.

We headed home for an early night, safe in the knowledge that he’d be wearing a nappy at night and we could relax at last. Jobs a good ‘un.

When morning arrived on 28th December he toddled into our bedroom with his usual “Morning Mummy Daddy”, bleary eyed we blinked at him, wished him good morning and then started counting the spots which had appeared on him overnight. It dawned on us, he’s got the chicken pox!

Crisis talks were hastily arranged. What do we do? 24 hours in, do we stop and just let him be ill in peace? Do we carry on? What to do, what to do?

So we decided to carry on. It’s going to be a hellish couple of weeks with either chicken pox or potty training, so we’re cracking on as planned and hopefully getting two completely awful things over and done with together.

He’s not seeming terribly ill with it, he still seems perky so we’ll just crack on. Potty training wise today hasn’t been dreadful. He’s still wetting himself left, right and centre, but he’s stared giving us clues about when he needs to go, like grabbing his crotch or just wetting his pants. He’s made it to the potty a few times but just moments too late.

It’s not easy and I don’t think Splodge is going to crack it overnight, but he’s a bright lad and once he decides he wants to do something then he’ll do it and do it well. I’ll hopefully do an update post in a few days and let you know how we’re getting on. Wish us luck!