It was all going to so well. Probably it still is, but I'm the type of person that when you've been riding high on the crest of a wave (albeit a wee one), a minor stumble sends me crashing down into the murky, poohy waters.
Sorry, too many toileting references there? Get used to them because potty training is frank and all encompassing.
Yesterday was brilliant. The Boy really did superbly. In the morning he stopped playing, looked down at his pants and said "Oh no, they coming down!", pulled them down and took himself for a wee. I was astounded and so very proud of him. We might have had big kisses and cuddles, possibly a silly dance together too. Later on after lunch, he was a little windy and fragrant so I sat him down, told what I wanted him to do, explained how to help it happen and then read his potty training picture book to him. I was looking on the pictures on the penultimate page, debating if that was a potette travel potty the little boy was sitting on when a little hand gripped my leg and I saw The Boy was shaking with the effort. Well blow me down with a feather if he hadn't just managed a deposit! I was even more proud of him than for the wee, and we definitely did a silly little dance then.
Then he had a tiny little accident. Whoops! But it's ok because I explained to him that it was his willy's way of telling him that he had to sit down on the potty quickly. Success! He went the rest of the day with no accidents and visits every hour.
Today started with a delivery of our Buppy pads that we had ordered. I instantly felt a little more relieved about the prospect of travelling to Manchester next Friday with a child who will have only been training for, by then, a fortnight. Mid morning, we popped to Starbucks and then my mum's for lunch. Coming home I decided to try The Boy with the same routine as yesterday lunchtime. All he produced was a wee after a few minutes of trying. I took the potty to the downstairs loo to empty and clean when I heard an informative little cry…
"I done a poo-poo on the carpet mummy!"
My heart sank. Why, oh why, hadn't I just sat there with him for one minute longer. I knew he needed to go, all the signs were there? And why in God's name, hadn't I left one of the many potties that we have amassed within plain sight for him? What a fool I was. I raced in with wipes and nappy sack to discover yes, there was indeed a deposit on the carpet, but that he had done it in his pants because he had been distracted by the bloody television. I sorted it all out while reassuring him that it was all ok, went to the utility room to sort it out (giving him a spare potty first) and had a silent weep for 20 seconds to myself.
Going back into the living room, I discovered that his new pair of pants were damp. I hadn't even had time to finish cleaning out the poo-potty before having to empty and clean out this one! And then, the washing machine went on with a collection of pre-soaked pants from the past few days.
So, what have I learnt?
- That I know when my son needs to go because nappies used to disguise pops and pants don't.
- That he can produce when on the potty, I just need to be patient.
- That a few minutes after he has performed, he will need to do a wee. It seems that the emptying of the bowel must relieve the pressure on The Boy's bladder.
- I am knackered and need to go to bed earlier.
- I don't have enough chocolate in the house.