Continuing adventures in potty training.
I’m glad we weren’t spending a nice afternoon enjoying the sunshine at a public park. First of all I couldn’t get Bea to settle and play on her mat with some toys. She just cried and cried until I gave up trying to feed, check her nappy, soothe, and entertain her. In desperation I took her back inside and as soon as I laid her down on her bed she contentedly stuck her hand in her mouth and closed her eyes.
Then it was Sam’s turn to drive me crazy. I’ve been struggling with his pottying again today. I’m really looking forward to the day that I can open his bedroom door when he wakes up, greet him with a cheery “Good Morning!” and give him a big hug without holding him tentatively and having to check his pants for stinkies. This morning was no exception. A knock on the door from Sam, “knock knock Mummy! Sammy awake now!”. Me opening the door to be greeted with a familiar whiff. A hug at arms length as I take a peek into his pants, and yes, frog march straight to the bathroom for the daily clean up ritual. Lovely.
I told mum earlier that on the bright side if he presents me with an early morning poop then at least I don’t have to worry about a mess later in the day. Remember those words, they come back to haunt me.
Oh and this morning was even better. Sam also provided me with two large puddles to clean up in the front room. Both times I saw him clutch his trousers and I asked him if he needed to “use the potty?” Each time he replied “No thankyou!” yet moments later I was horrified to see pee streaming onto the hardwoods.
I’m not cleaning up his mess anymore though. He can jolly well clean that up himself. So I pull out the mop, bucket and disinfectant and Sam mops up his own mess. I’m hoping he might get the message, but I suspect I have a problem in that Sam likes to mop.
So it is a bright and sunny day and we have made it into the back garden this afternoon. Bea is peacefully slumbering inside in her cot and Sam is happily running around the garden flitting from one activity to the next. Idyllic, except that suddenly I notice that Sam is no longer poking around looking for bugs but is peeing on the house. Pants and trousers are still on and his shoes and socks are also drenched. A telling off and a change of clothes tout de suite. I’m frustrated as after this morning I’d even provided him with his potty outside. No excuse.
Next we’re being creative painting some big cardboard boxes on the lawn and having fun. I missed it this time but he was soon running up to me letting me know his pants were soggy.
To make it even easier to use the potty I then let him run around in just his underpants. Next thing I know he is stood up, pants around his ankles and enjoying watching his urine stream into a bush.
After another clothing change he’s at it again! This time I’m really horrified to see him start to squat down in the middle of the lawn. Uh oh. I grabbed him and sat him on the potty just in time. Big poop! I think my boy has been taking lessons from Quincy!
Speaking of, he had been lazing around in the back garden with us but wandered off during all this. I’ve just been racing around outside yelling for him. I checked inside our house twice and all the neighbour’s yards. Despite my calling he did not come. I walked back in through the back door and you can probably guess who was there wagging his tail at me.
Finally, as Sam did yet another pee in the garden he peed all over his second pair of shoes and I gave up. He can’t run around our yard barefoot as I keep finding little shards of all sorts of coloured glass back there (what the hell were the old occupants doing?!) so I picked him up to carry him inside. As I did so he thrust his legs down and caught the top of my trousers. PING! Off flew the button and ZnnIP! down went the zip. I was stood there with my cords around my ankles and, carrying a wriggling Sam, had to waddle back into the house like that.
Like I said, I’m glad this was all in the privacy of our back garden.