Last week, overwhelmed by aching bones as a result of sleep deprivation and the ‘almost flu’ virus, I decided that come babes bath time, I would join her for a soak in the tub. What I didn’t envision was what came next…
I’d added lovely bubble bath and dived in the water to enjoy just a few seconds peace, before the ‘all slipping and kicking’ toddler clambered in to play boats. Unable to detain her from the bubble fun, I hauled her in. Then spent a good few minutes to-ing and fro-ing her from potty to bath and back again upon the cry of “wee wee” I knew something was going on – she was brewing a special bath floater. I sensed the turtles head was going to make an appearance sometime soon.
Just at the right time, my sixth poopey sense kicked in, as I reached round and caught it. She pooped in my hand – ugh! Well caught I thought.
The big mama catcher
She has done this a second time since, not in the bath at least. I knew it was coming, the refusal to put on the nappy had started, along with the trips back and forth to the potty and grizzliness.
Luckily, due to my regular running nose, a tissue was always upon my person, so I was able to line the drop zone.
Fire in the hole at last
Last night just before bath, I knew it was a-comin. The grizzliness was in full swing and then all of a sudden she was getting ready to plop into my hand – at that very moment I scooped her up and put her on the toilet. Result, the babe landed the fire right in the hole – no messing, no scoopey out the potty, no cleaning a dirty nappy. This is the place I want us to be.
I didn’t really want to be sat next to her, hugging the toddler toilet duo for the following ten minutes, but it beat all the other options.
So we really are making head way with the potty/toilet training. I can say toilet training now too, as she has started to use the adult toilet – for the first time in a motorway service station on Christmas Eve. This is a bit of a bind though, as everywhere we go, as she now wants to visit the toilet, and not just once, time and time again. I can’t moan, its all progress from being the mama poopey catcher.