Tuesday, 4 October 2016

The Good, The Bad and the Poo-Stained Playpark.

It's been a while. And I'll tell you for why. We've been potty training.

My life has honestly revolved around piss, shit and farts for the past three months. (or, "wee wee, poo poo and POP POPS" as Elliot tells me thirty times a day.) I've spent more time on the floor scrubbing up wee than I'd ever thought I would and I've perfected rolling a giant turd out of a pair of pants into the toilet with minimum splash.

The story began one fateful day, where we realised that suddenly Elliot had changed from a tiny baby rolling around in his own filth, to a toddler who looked almost disgusted at his own filth and waddled around until you took it away. It took me a long time to come to terms with this, and I'm still wondering where the tiny otter-looking thing that shot green goo out of his bum went?

Since I am a massive wimp and my OCD has been a killer for checking he hasn't wet himself, Elliot has been wearing pull up's over his Paw Patrol pants for the past three months. That sounds awful, doesn't it? When we're out and about, I just need some extra reassurance that he won't wee all over the floor of Sainsbury's.  Recently, I've been brave and we've been out a few times without that extra padded layer, which was a massive step in the right direction!

Potty training has been a bit of a rollercoaster, if I'm honest. I present to you the good, bad and really gross moments of our potty training journey! (We're still so far from the end of this journey. This list will be expanded.)

  • The first time we ventured out after we'd thrown the nappies out (put them on top of the wardrobe) and Elliot shouted that he needed a wee in the middle of Baby Gap and Reece and I have never moved faster, shielding our son in the middle of the 3 for 2 section as he sat there, bemused, pissing into a bag.
  • Reece texting me to tell me he's just had to kick a poo out of the playpark. And it was a smeary one.
  • When a horrific turn of events led to me dumping a leaky bag of piss outside our local library before running home. And then the dog tried to eat it.
  • Tipping a poo into a flowerbed in the park. I'm sorry, Nature.
  • Ruining every single meal out by saying, "Do you need the toilet?" 24 times before the food's actually arrived.
  • Sitting outside the Job Centre using a pack of nappies as a seat in the rain, as Elliot squeezes out a turd.
  • Picking him up from playgroup for him to shout at me, "I DID A WEE WEE! IN THE PLAYGROUP POTTY!" and having to cheer like an idiot in front of all the other mums. That was actually quite a successful moment. 
I am actually, incredibly proud of my lean, mean pooping machine. I genuinely am pleased for the fact that he can control his bowel movements. Because once you've got that down, the entire world is your oyster.

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