Friday, 30 August 2013

The One With Thomas and Something Nasty

As you know potty training has finally gone into full swing here in the Randomhousehold. 

The boy has decided he will now do wees' on the potty but, to quote Pirate Pete's potty book, "he's finding doing a poo much harder".

That's ok. We can live with that. It's a letting go thing. I've read it's quite common. I'm just excited that he'll do anything at all. So excited in fact that I have employed some top comedy parenting skills and taught him to say 'ta dah' when he rises triumphantly from his potty after doing a wee. 

It's a sight to behold! 

Lemon Cake Lady suggested he add a bow or some showbiz jazz hands as well, but we don't want to completely, and quite literally, take the piss do we! 

Today however we had a breakthrough. The boy was out in Nanny P's garden when he asked Grandad Atu for the potty. A rarity in itself, as he normally waits for us to ask him if he needs to go. Unfortunately the boy couldn't wait and by the time Grandad had got back he'd curled one out on the path.

But hey it's a start! He didn't ask for a nappy and he 'let one go' to coin a phrase. And at least this time he hadn't started moulding it like some organic, hippy Play Doh! 

You see the other day I went to empty the potty of wee in the bathroom and came back to be presented with Thomas the Tank Engine looking a bit grubby,

"Thomas has fallen in the mud Mummy" said the sweet voice of the boy as he presented me with the train "He needs a wash down"

"Honey what is that? Where did you get mud from in the lounge? Oh my god that's not mud is it? It's poo!"

The boy had obviously done a teeny, tiny little poo after his wee whilst I was out of the room, scooped it up and pressed it into the wheels, fender, firebox and funnel of poor old Thomas the Tank Engine! 

Not so much 'Thomas, he's the cheeky one' as 'Thomas, he's the shitty one.' 

I quickly ascertained that he hadn't put his fingers in his mouth and then performed not so much of a wash down as a mass clean up operation of boy, carpet, sofa and train. 

We then had a long talk about about how we don't play with poo and poo isn't mud. It's poo. And poo is dirty with lots of germs that can make us ill. So don't play with it, you cute but rather poo obsessed boy. 

God bless the Dettol wipe is all I can say. 

Much like life, it's amazing how a little bit of shit can go such a long way isn't it! 

Sunday, 25 August 2013

The One With The Blurred Lines

Every Sunday evening I listen to the Top 40 as I cook dinner. It's a throwback from my childhood, when I had a Sunday night bath and hair wash before another school week and Mum wasn't allowed to put the hair dryer on until I'd heard who was number 1.

I lived for the Top 40. Who'd gone up, who'd gone down, non movers and new entries. I soaked it all in as I lay in the bath and would memorise the Top 10 for the whole of the next week, ready to reel it off to anyone who'd listen. 

Nowadays I haven't a clue who anyone is, but recently I like the Robin Thicke Blurred Lines song. 

You know the one. That one. The one with the nudey rudey video which it didn't need to sell it because it's such a catchy tune (or choon as the youngsters say) anyway. 

I've downloaded it onto my I-Tunes - well just the song, not the video, although I've seen the video and those women are fit. Especially the brunette. Oh come on - you know who I mean and as Ken always says "There's a little bit of lezza in all of us!"

Anyway I don't play it in front of the boy as it's got "language" in it. But of course the tame version has been played on the radio all the time.

Despite it's potentially misogynistic lyrics, when it comes on in the car I am guilty of turning it up with the comment,

"Oh Mummy likes this one"

Of course the boy is a sponge for anything vaguely musical and loves nothing better than a good song to get his perfectly formed milk teeth into!

So he's obviously been taking note, as I discovered the other day when, in the middle of Waitrose - the poshest and quietest  of all the supermarkets - he proceeded to sing at the top of his voice,

"Oh I know you want it, I know you want it, cos you're a good girl. Want it. Oh I know you want it. Good girl"

Over and over again!

Now I love it that he picks up songs so quickly and easily, but I didn't realise he was taking any notice of the radio. I thought if it wasn't a Thomas the Tank Engine song or Postman Pat's Special Delivery Service he wasn't interested. But it would seem the lines between just listening to children's songs and taking notice of pop songs have become... um.. blurred. 

Maybe I need to watch what I have on in future as we drive around in the car! 

As for these Blurred Lines I think I'd better teach him a new song.

Anyone got the lyrics handy for "Baby Got Back"? 

Thursday, 22 August 2013

The One With All The Changes of Clothes

By George, I think he's got it!

I bring exciting news. After a year and a half of cajoling, bribing, talking about it and reading Pirate Pete's Potty book over and over and again at bedtime, until I could probably write you a 10,000 word thesis on it's main themes and imagery, the boy has started to do wee wees on the potty.

Of his own accord. Happily. Without screaming.

He's also suddenly embraced the idea of big boy pants. Previously, when I was trying every single trick conceivable to tempt him to start potty training, I took him to buy his very own big boy pants. We went to the stand where they were and I asked if he'd like the ones with guitars on or monsters on? He actually physically turned his back on the display and screamed NO!!

I had a feeling he still wasn't ready to give up nappies just yet.

But this week, well he's like a different little boy. A switch has gone click in his brain. For weeks we've all been telling him if he does a wee wee on the potty he can have Hiro (yes that is how you spell it)  from Thomas The Tank Engine. "Hiro of the Rails" is the film of choice at present so Hiro is a big deal. He knew the engine was upstairs. I'd shown him the bag he was in. Hiro even went back and forth in Nanny P's handbag when the boy went over there in case he suddenly decided to comply at her house.

Then this Monday morning. Eureka! So Hiro was given as an instant reward as promised. The boy had a glazed at us with a look of 'Oh shit, they weren't bluffing. They hung out for the wee wees but now I've got the prize" and this seems to have done the trick.

Of course this first week has not been without it's little accidents. 

On Tuesday I took his own potty to nursery and there was only one change of clothes required. He'd done exceptionally well on only his second day without nappies.

Today was a nursery morning again but in my hurry to leave the house in the pouring rain I forgot the potty. What I believe they call an epic Mummy fail. 

Never mind, they have plenty of potties at nursery he'll use one of those and I've packed about 5 spare pairs of pants and joggers, he's only there until lunchtime. He'll be fine.

When I went to pick him up at 12.30 he was dressed as a power ranger! He was perfectly happy and greeted me with his usual gusto but he was dressed in a black, rather grubby, power ranger costume. 

Something wee based had obviously occurred. At least 5 times.

"Oh hello." said one of his key workers 'I'll just go and get his slip and see what he ate today?"

What he ate? Are you kidding me? With the best will in the world I'm not that arsed about what he ate. I'd rather know why my son is dressed as a Power Ranger. Or at least have it acknowledged as the first thing we discuss as they hand him back over to me. 

"He just had the broccoli today I'm afraid. He wasn't too bothered about the BBQ chicken."

"Was he not." I replied "And....?"

" He did have all his dessert. I can't remember what that was. Would you like me to find out?"

"Nah you're alright. Anything else you want to tell me maybe...?

" He's enjoyed "Harry and the Bucket Full of Dinosaurs" story today too."

"Lovely. He rocks a dinosaur does the boy. So how's the.. er... potty training gone today?"

"Ah yes. I'm afraid he wouldn't use our potties so there's been a few accidents."

"Just a few hey."

"Yes. Probably best to bring his own potty in next week. And you can bring... umm that back... when you next come in too" she added indicating the fancy dress costume.

"I'll give it a wash. Bye"

"Yes bye. He's had a lovely morning though."

I'm sure he had. He's been soaked in his own piss and dressed as a super hero for most of it. That's a good morning out for a 3 year old boy.

"Have you enjoyed being a Power Ranger" I asked as we left

"Can I take it off now please?" he said

"When we get home darling" 

"Can we go and get a Freddo at the shop?"

"Maybe not today baby. We'll find some chocolate at home for when you next do a wee wee on your potty. Yes."


And to be fair, he's been back to a mean, keen, weeing machine since he got his own throne back this afternoon. 

Go, go Power Rangers.....