I left my daughter with a complete stranger.
A MAN!
In a park.
She was only 4 months old.
Not the proudest mummying moment I’ve had, but
even now, I believe I would do the same thing again.
even now, I believe I would do the same thing again.
It all began with every parent’s revolting
nightmare; the pits of the pits, the crappiest of the crap, the pond scum of
parenting; TOILET TRAINING.
nightmare; the pits of the pits, the crappiest of the crap, the pond scum of
parenting; TOILET TRAINING.
It was time for our son to ditch the nappies. It
had been a ridiculously hard slog over the previous weeks, and with the benefit
of hindsight – blinking obvious he was probably ‘not ready’, but I stubbornly
forged ahead. I had googled the list of ‘top tips’ – no mixed signals, don’t
stop and start, loads of positive reinforcement, and my own personal tip – lots
of sugary bribes…oops…rewards. We had bunkered down and barely left the house for fear of
the #2’s debacle. Wee, I had unfortunately discovered, could kinda be missed if
wearing dark pants and playing outside. But poo…? No. There was no hiding a
poo accident.
had been a ridiculously hard slog over the previous weeks, and with the benefit
of hindsight – blinking obvious he was probably ‘not ready’, but I stubbornly
forged ahead. I had googled the list of ‘top tips’ – no mixed signals, don’t
stop and start, loads of positive reinforcement, and my own personal tip – lots
of sugary bribes…oops…rewards. We had bunkered down and barely left the house for fear of
the #2’s debacle. Wee, I had unfortunately discovered, could kinda be missed if
wearing dark pants and playing outside. But poo…? No. There was no hiding a
poo accident.
But this day I bravely ventured out. Life must
go on – people understood….didn’t they? And so there we were, playing happily
at the playground, little angel perched contentedly on my shoulder, when my son decided he needed to go to the toilet…NOW!!
go on – people understood….didn’t they? And so there we were, playing happily
at the playground, little angel perched contentedly on my shoulder, when my son decided he needed to go to the toilet…NOW!!
“Poo, Mummy, poo!”
Sweet cherries…this was going to getugly…hold on. Hold on.
Serious hopping and bum grabbing began in
earnest.
earnest.
Well….there was nothing left but to let him
go…right there…a decent sized tree just outside the playground…no time
for thinking…But it was poo; I needed two hands to hold him in that upright
(don’t go on the shoes) squat pose.
go…right there…a decent sized tree just outside the playground…no time
for thinking…But it was poo; I needed two hands to hold him in that upright
(don’t go on the shoes) squat pose.
And there he was.
The light glistening angelically around his silhouette.
The Daddy man. He was there sweetly playing with his older daughters. We had
exchanged weather pleasantries earlier. He seemed ‘normal’, and more
importantly, he read my dilemma and held out his hands to my baby girl.
The Daddy man. He was there sweetly playing with his older daughters. We had
exchanged weather pleasantries earlier. He seemed ‘normal’, and more
importantly, he read my dilemma and held out his hands to my baby girl.
NO.TIME.TO.THINK.
Yes.
And whilst I stood under that tree and boy child
excreted some ungodly innards, I watched my Angel with eagle eyes. Then of
course, the next dilemma was what to do now, because he was watching me, too.
So yes. Yes; I had to pick that warm poo up in a nappy bag like a dog, holding
my retching at bay, whilst my son beamed at me with pride and relief.
excreted some ungodly innards, I watched my Angel with eagle eyes. Then of
course, the next dilemma was what to do now, because he was watching me, too.
So yes. Yes; I had to pick that warm poo up in a nappy bag like a dog, holding
my retching at bay, whilst my son beamed at me with pride and relief.
Crisis kind of (nearly) averted.
I collected my daughter with a renewed sense of
kinship. He’d been there and done that. He remembered and he empathised.
Geeze…we all need a break like that every now and then. Sadly, sometimes we
are too embarrassed to offer our help, for fear that the already stressed parent
under pressure will rip our heads off and shout that they’re just ‘fine’ thank
you very much! We can sometimes be our own worst enemy.
kinship. He’d been there and done that. He remembered and he empathised.
Geeze…we all need a break like that every now and then. Sadly, sometimes we
are too embarrassed to offer our help, for fear that the already stressed parent
under pressure will rip our heads off and shout that they’re just ‘fine’ thank
you very much! We can sometimes be our own worst enemy.
Not me. Not when it comes to toilet training.
And so I am completely happy to ask for your
help, advice and solidarity.
help, advice and solidarity.
I have been burnt.
I have been traumatised.
I am now staring down the barrel of Round #2.
Yes, friends, the toddler toilet seat/steps is
ready to go, the stickers are bought and I have splashed out second time around
with a potty book INCLUDING a ready made applause button. I believe I have not
been to the toilet alone since 2013 it seems, so she is clearly showing signs
of interest. She enjoys informing visitors, shop keepers and anyone else
looking remotely in our direction that Mummy has done a poo, so she is definitely switched on to the concept.
ready to go, the stickers are bought and I have splashed out second time around
with a potty book INCLUDING a ready made applause button. I believe I have not
been to the toilet alone since 2013 it seems, so she is clearly showing signs
of interest. She enjoys informing visitors, shop keepers and anyone else
looking remotely in our direction that Mummy has done a poo, so she is definitely switched on to the concept.
But I am dreading this.
The Peppa Pig knickers may be ready to go….I
AM NOT!
AM NOT!
Please; hit me with your best toilet training
advice……
advice……
NB: Just as an update, this was published last November…and I have STILL been putting it off. I am using the fact that we are now in a rented, furnished apartment with a material lounge suite and carpet… BUT, the daughter is now deciding for herself..it’s killing me…her latest game is, “Mum! POOOOO!!!” and we both run to the toilet where she laughs hysterically and tells me she’s joking. And she has me ; I have no choice but to sprint wildly with her each time…just in case… Give.Me.Strength!
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