Potty Training – The Grand Finale

potty training

If you read my first post on potty training then you will know that this is NOT a “how-to” guide.  Following the response to my last one, here is a follow-up to let you know about our progress.  For reasons that will become clear I was toying with the idea of calling this post:

“Happy Hippos, High Fives, and a Hell of a Lot of Toilet Roll”

Our previous potty training sessions had gone quite well.  We had a few one step forward two-steps back moments but nothing too bad to put me off in the Pursuit of Nappyless (see what I did there).  I work (practically) full-time Monday to Friday so I only have the weekends to try to master potty training.  The last few I have been house-bound, and following my semi naked little boy’s peachy bum run around the house, for when he felt the need to empty his bladder and/or bowels.

Last weekend he seemed as keen as me to crack this potty training business.  Perhaps the trigger was being cooped up inside whilst the weather was good.  As I sat at my laptop penning my latest post Harry parked up in front of me and sat on the potty and did a wee. (I must clarify that the potty was in the kitchen with me – I don’t sit in the bathroom to blog).  I was elated!  Up he got and we high-fived and he requested a Kinder Happy Hippo which I duly handed over.  OK, it was before 10am, but a promise is a promise.  Both of us marched off to the toilet and tipped it down, I gave him a wipe, he flushed the chain, we both washed our hands and the job was done.

I resumed my position at the laptop – with a massive smile on my face – and he wandered off in to the lounge to continue creating Jurassic Park.  Five minutes later he returned and once again sat on the potty and produced a wee.  YYEEAAHH, more high-fiving and a request for a Happy Hippo, but this time I declined.  He looked confused.  A few minutes after that he re-appeared and the routine started again.  Once again he looked confused when we reached the end of it and I said no to his request for more chocolate.  I would like to say that this was the end of it, however he returned 5 more times for a wee, and all within the space of an hour.  Where the hell was he storing it!  I was tired from walking up and down the stairs to the loo to tip it away.  One bonus was the number of steps I was racking up on my Fitbit.

Later on in the day – when he usually needs a poo – he announced he needed to go – he is like clockwork.  He sat on the potty and produced.  The look of pride on his face was mirrored in my own.  We high-fived, wiped, flushed, washed and this time I did give him another Happy Hippo.  After all, this was another major step forward.  But once again we struck up the same routine as in the morning.  He returned numerous times to the potty in the space of an hour to have a poo.  I honestly think he thought he was going to get a Happy Hippo after every bowel movement.  All in all I recorded 20% more steps on my Fitbit that day; and together we mastered potty training.

There have been a few accidents – such as sitting on the potty whilst still wearing his underpants, and not directing his flow properly – but he has been dry for the last 3 days.  He even wakes up in the morning and shouts through to tell me he needs a wee.  My approach might not be the conventional way to potty train but it has worked for us.

OK, so he likes to take his socks off when he goes, he yanks up his crown jewels to look under and check the progress of a number 2, and he also sits backwards, but I am willing to go with it for now.  Whatever works I say.


Harry’s Honest Mummy x

The Waiting Room

waiting room photo

Last week saw us attend the drop-in clinic at my doctor’s surgery and have to wait for 3 hours for an appointment.  Yes I will say that again, 3 hours.  And that was 3 hours of having to sit in the waiting room for your name to be called.  I had been told the horror stories of how long others have waited – although even the worst story was half the length of time we waited –  so I went prepared with a packed lunch, his sticker book and a few of his toys.  It looked like we were going on a day out rather than off to spend a few hours with the old and the unwell.  The reason for the visit was because Harry had developed a persistent cough.  A cough that got worse at night time and had kept us all awake for the previous few nights.

Because we were inside Harry insisted on taking his shoes off – not something I have instilled in him but it’s not a bad habit to have.  Whilst technically we were outside (i.e. not at home) I decided this was a battle that was just not worth having.  If it kept him quiet then I was prepared to let it go – within reason.  The waiting room was packed – standing room only.  Harry loves an audience and here was a room full of people with no option but to stay put.  We had a lot of stomping, dancing, roaring, and rolling around on the floor (him, not me).  After an hour of “performing” to his captive audience he sat on the floor and devoured his picnic.  He didn’t look or act ill – his cough had even disappeared.  In fact you would swear he thought he was at a toddler group just with a slightly older clientele.

After his self imposed interval break he started up again with a recital of a couple of his favourite stories.  I had to join in at this point and humour him with my best Gruffalo voice – why is it that now that I have seen the film I come out with my best Robbie Coltrane impression? –  and then with the voice (s) of the Three Little Pigs.  The pressure was on as I had a room full of people listening in and I am not a natural performer. He certainly doesn’t get it from me.

When he got bored with my efforts he moved on to attacking the sticker book, sticking them to the chair, to me, and to the buggy.  Much to my relief – and probably to that of the others still trapped in the waiting room – our name was called.  I am not sure who the doctor thought was ill because after very little sleep for a few nights, and 3 hours with no food I looked a little pale and wobbly.

Doctor – “How can I help you”

Harry (lifting up his t-shirt to bare his belly) – “Man, my tummy hurts, rub it better?”

Me – “We are here about his cough”

Harry – “I hurt my bottom on the radio.  Fix it?”

(Harry the night before had been running around naked before bath time and got a little too close to one of the radiators – radio = radiator)

Me – “Again, we are here about his cough”

Within 5 minutes we were clutching a prescription and leaving behind a bemused doctor, a trail of sandwich crumbs, the remains of his sticker book and a room full of relieved patients grateful for the silence.  Harry had what he needed for a good night’s sleep, and what did I have?  You guessed it.  I left with every infectious bug that had been flying around the waiting room – for free.  Lucky me.


Harry’s Honest Mummy x

(PS:  To rub insult in to injury when we got to the Chemist he was on lunch so we had to wait another 20 minutes for our prescription.  In which time Harry managed to destroy a shelf of vases in the charity shop next door trying to reach for a Peppa Pig doctors case – I kid you not!!)

2016-01-20 18.16.49