Potty potty potty starts with pee

WARNING! THIS POST CONTAINS YUCKY DETAILS OF A TODDLER VISITING THE TOILET. ALL THOSE WHO ARE SQUEAMISH ABOUT SUCH THINGS ARE ADVISED TO NOT BOTHER READING ANY FURTHER (go and read the previous post about owls instead. There are far less references to poo in it. None in fact. Terwhit-terwhoo!)

Anyway….here goes:

Back in November, we gaily began our potty training journey.

The toilet was adorned with a step and a toddler seat. Potties were strewn around the house. The Wee Man was kitted out with tracksuit bottoms, big boy pants and a copy of ‘Pirate Pete’ – apparently the leading literature in convincing your two year old that the correct repository of bodily excretions is in fact a toilet shaped receptacle of one form or other, and not, as we have previously taught them, their nappies.

However, around this time, he realised that his sister wasn’t going back to wherever she came from. And he also realised that playing ‘going to the toilet’ (or not, as the case may be) was a huge game which could lead to a howling sister, multitudes of little puddles on the floor, excessive loads of washing, and a very fed up Mummy.

So that plan was shelved for a while. Until this Summer I thought, when we would let him run around with no clothes on and the whole process would be much, much easier.

But as is often the case with best laid plans, that was not on the Wee Man’s agenda.

Three weeks ago, with Bubby D in the throes of a projectile vomiting virus, the Wee Man whipped off his nappy, pooed in a potty, proudly displayed it to all those around him and declared ‘I don’t wear nappies any more mummy!’.

Which would be great, except that he refused to tell us when he needed to wee, or to just go to the toilet without telling us. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m happy it was that way round. I’d rather be cleaning up accidental number ones than number twos, that’s for sure. But running with him to the toilet every 15 minutes and trying to persuade him to give it a go (at which point he’d wriggle around like a slippery eel, refusing to even consider sitting on the toilet or a potty), whilst simultaneously dealing with a poorly and puking 7 month old was a bit wearing to say the least.

And after two weeks of accident after accident, I was beginning to give up hope…until one day, the Wee Man sat down on his potty, managed to get his pants down, and proceeded to do a wee. Hurrah and huzzah! He finally seemed to be getting the idea! Later, it happened again, and again, until suddenly, one day this week, we went a whole day with no accidents at all.

No accidents at all of the weeing variety that is, anyway. Because now, despite 5 days of initial pooing success, the Wee Man now seems averse to using the potty for this purpose. Or the toilet. Or in fact, any receptacle other than his pants. Pants which have now been chucked in the bin as they appear (and I wasn’t looking too closely, I have to say) to be beyond redemption.

So if anyone has any great ideas about how to get the poos out of the pants, and back in the potty, I’d love to hear them! Otherwise, I think we’re going to need a few more pairs of pants!