05.02.21 – In which I document my failed attempts at parenting, The Dark Lord (Little M – 2yrs8m) and The Tiny Tyrant (Baby F – 5m)
(Some Of My) Honest Parenting Adventures: Thoughts I probably shouldn’t say out loud, things I find funny, musings and ramblings; read with your tongue firmly in your cheek.
Hello and thanks for stopping by… if we haven’t met before then woohoo, if you’ve come back for more then cheers to you for giving me some more of your time. Regardless, welcome to my (probably slightly too) honest parenting adventures…
I had planned to have a real treat in store for you this week; I had so many things I had wanted to blog about. I even managed to make a note of some of them, that is on the rare occasion that I happened upon the 1 in 5000 pencils that still had the slightest semblance of lead inside of it of course. Or red paint on the other end. Anyone else resorted to using the wrong end of the pencil and scraping with all their force to scratch the faintest lettering onto a scrap of paper? The kids in my class do this all the time and it drives me mad, plus it actually takes longer than tracking down that one pencil that does work. But, it becomes a matter of principle you see. If I find a fully functioning pencil, or, rarer still, a pencil sharpener, even if I hide it, it gets found and someone else gets all the benefit. Point being; I had notes, most impressive since the few remaining grey cells, left somewhere in the most Northern reaches of my mind, rarely retain much of any use these days. Unfortunately, The Dark Lord and The Tiny Tyrant had other plans and resisted allowing me the time to brush my own teeth until at least 3pm most days, never mind letting me get on with something so ‘trivial’ as blogging. Somehow it’s Friday – I literally have no idea where the time went, I’m actually pretty sure I must have slept through at least two days because I genuinely cannot grasp how this is possible – and it was either this little entry, or nothing.
Being that whatmummydoes.co.uk has existed for less than a month I decided that it was probably best to stay on course and give it my all at least for the length of time that it took me to create my two human babies. So, I’ve managed to hand over the kids to Nannie and Grandad, and am hoping to dedicate a few minutes to bringing you up to date with life in our house this week, despite all and sundry doing their best to distract me from it. I’ve tried working downstairs so that I’m on hand and feel a little less guilty for spending a little time on something that is solely for me, but with little success: Grandad paced in and out of the room (incredibly annoying in itself) with my youngest monster whimpering in his arms, commenting each time that he entered “Oh dear, she’s looking for you, she’s seen you, don’t cry now that you can see Mummy!” So now, I’m hidden on the floor, at the side of the bed, pressed up against the wall. Doors are banging below and I’m ducking lower every time, I’m basically horizontal now. The TV is on so loudly that I may as well be in the classroom with Madam Gazelle. I can still barely concentrate and already sense that my time is limited but it’s a luxury in comparison, so without further ado, here is The Dark Lord and The Tiny Tyrant Part 3.
Now where shall we begin? An update on the potty training, since you were so kind to ask:
Well, it’s not ‘happened’ yet; let’s be honest, none of us thought it would.
However, I will say that I have been MUCH braver, stuffing The Dark Lord into potty training pants this week. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. I even managed to keep the nappy off on most of these occasions rather than just putting them over the top of her nappy, thereby avoiding my preschooler looking like she belonged to the Kardashian clan. Kudos where it is deserved me thinks.
I couldn’t find Peppa ones, but I did manage to buy a couple of pairs, which were decorated with a piggy print from Amazon – check them out here a winner if your child is pig-obsessed like mine. They went down almost as well as the Peppa knickies ‘of old‘. Unfortunately The DL decided to treat them like a normal nappy and seemed to positively enjoy telling Mr WMD that her knickies were drying on the Aga every time she did a wee in them.
Day 1 and despite all my efforts to sit her on the potty every 30 minutes with a handful of chocolate buttons and Princess Potty, she came dancing into the kitchen telling me that she had done a wee on Mummy’s chair (the sofa). She also left puddles in the bedroom, under the table and on the bed throughout the day.
Day 2, she hid in the office and did a poo. Which she tried to clean out of her knickers by herself. She thoroughly enjoyed having a good look at, and sniff of, her ‘log’. Delightful. Anyone else with a toddler who insists on ‘reviewing her work’? I couldn’t hack the whole day and we were back to Pampers territory by mid-afternoon. I won’t bore you with the rest but I like to think it’s progress? My certainty that I won’t be sending care packages to her university halls of residence is beginning to wane; the fear is real.
To be fair on The DL and in the interest of being totally honest since this is an honest parenting blog, I just don’t think she is quite ready developmentally yet. She hasn’t really shown the signs that indicate that its on the cards imminently. It’s more of an ‘all-of-her-friends-are-doing-it-so-why-isn’t-she’ type of situation from my perspective and Grandad dropping “It’s about time we tried that potty again isn’t it Little M?” into conversation occasionally, that’s the primary driving force behind it. Grandad, bless him, is incredible with kids – man I look up and aspire to be like him, but given that after approximately six weeks into her swimming lessons (aged 18 weeks) he asked if she was swimming with armbands yet, I think he may have forgotten slightly how these things work. The DL is so advanced in some respects (and yes that’s half proud mama chat but also a genuine awareness of developmental expectations within the early years) that it surprises when, for want of a better phrase ‘she comes last in the race’, compared to her friends. Then I get annoyed with myself for being one of those competitive mums, when all along I didn’t really care anyway, because I know better than this. Happy and healthy was all that ever mattered, but come on Little M – must you always make me wait? It doesn’t help the situation that she is incredibly strong-willed and a feisty little miss. She is determined NOT to give up the nappies and I think I need to accept that she will let me know when the time suits her. Just like sitting, crawling, standing and walking, we will do it on her terms and not just because I don’t want to be the last one sharing videos on Facebook when she deigns to do it. I really do believe that she could have done all of these things way before she did, but she was resolute in making it clear from the start that she was the boss. Fair play is all I can say – I always said I didn’t want a wallflower; I dreamed of a daughter who could rule the world if she wanted and filled the walls of her nursery with positive and empowering mantras in this vein, so I got what I asked for. Good on her. Plus, I’m changing fewer and fewer nappies per day AND she’s been enjoying sitting on her potty (with her clothes on naturally) and wasting, sorry – playing with, the toilet roll to wipe herself as she copies me, so all hope it not lost.
Well it seems that Grandad has made his way to hovering at the bottom of the stairs with The Tiny Tyrant, who has upped her volume to more of a wail now, which can only mean one thing: Time’s up…
Until next time,
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SHARING IS CARING