A few weeks ago, we thought we’d cracked potty training but the initial euphoria quickly faded and we’ve remained knee deep in soiled nappies.
So, this week marks the beginning of the end. Or the end of the beginning. I’ve got a few days off work and Boy Wonder’s nappy days are officially over.
This morning, we strapped him into his Big Boy Pants and the day began. And it was quite a day.
Firstly, our plumber told us that the part for our broken washing machine wouldn’t be here for another 24 hours. So we were embarking on one of the messiest parenting projects with no means of cleaning up after ourselves.
Boy Wonder exposed this shoddy timing by going through two sets of underpants and shorts in the first hour. Both times he screamed as the wet spread down his legs. Both times I quietly screamed as it left puddles on our sofa. Thankfully, it’s leather and wipes easily.
He then asked to go on the potty, without one of our oppressive ten-minute prompts. He deposited the smallest poo I’ve ever seen, the cause for wild cheers in our kitchen. I’ve no idea what it’ll be like if he ever gets good exam results.
After din-dins, we were on high alert for a proper sitting but it never came. Not how we expected it, anyway. Instead, he spent most of the afternoon perched on his red plastic throne having phantom wees. He was clearly scared of wetting his pants again, which was all part of the plan.
When he finally did open the tap, he was unfortunately aiming upwards, not into the potty. Stupidly, I put my hand in the way of the rising arc, as if I had special powers and could force it back in. Instead, I helped to spray it a bit more on the kitchen floor. There was a good millilitre in the potty, by contrast, so the training took on a bit of technical advice that only I could provide.
After tea, I put him in the bath, as much to soothe the growing sores from sitting on the potty all afternoon. I didn’t notice his face redden due to the steam but for probably the first time all day he relaxed and suddenly there was a snake in the water.
It was massive. I herded Boy Wonder up the other end of the bath and called for assistance. The Duchess handed me a nappy bag – just like old times – and I attempted to capture the reptile. I thought I’d done well until I realised I needed to create a hole in the bag to get rid of the water. The bag split, disaster flooded out and I suffered what has to be the biggest injury to my dignity in my parenting career so far.
Eventually, Boy Wonder and I got clean and he went to sleep probably feeling a mixture of pride and fear. I can’t say I’ve fully recovered, although a bottle of pear cider did help. I’m definitely getting the fear as well. Tomorrow, we’re heading out for the day. It could get very messy.
I hope the plumber shows…
What about you, what are your horror stories?