10 June 2013


In the whirring blur of parenthood there are those milestones that shouts your child's development and you wait for with them with baited breath: first smile, first tooth, first crawl, first solids, first steps, first words. Hell it's a world of FIRSTS, but up there scoring highly is saying goodbye to nappies and hello to pants, and it was a first I was fearing. Not because this truly highlights them rapidly leaving the days of baby behind them; there is nothing more sobering then seeing that padded out baby butt disappear to be replaced with a shouty boy, declaring that he can indeed put on his own pants because he is a 'big boy' (oh how my heart sings and sheds a tear simultaneously), but because of the mess and routine.

It's been seven days since our last nappy, and like a recovering alcoholic there are moments where I feel I might lapse and I fight the urge to wrestle F with a packet of pull ups. Don't get me wrong he has been amazing, throughout the whole week we have had a total of six accidents and considering he seems to pee every 45 minutes this is pretty incredible. 

If you have read my other posts you might know that I struggle with routine, so the thought of having to remember to ask F if he needs the toilet every 40 minutes was bringing me out in a cold sweat. After a few months of stopping and starting it was becoming glaringly obvious he was ready: telling me when he needed a poop or pee, staying dry when he was napping, bringing me the changing matt and asking for a new nappy, asking for privacy to go for a poop in his nappy and the list goes on. Here I was holding him back (ah the mama guilt raises its head). 

So after pulling myself together and stocking up on pants, I took the plunge. The first day I forgot to ask F twice if he needed the toilet and he pee'd himself. Seeing his face crumple because he had wet trousers made my heart break. With lots of soothing words, hugs and kisses we got cleaned up and tried again. This time I set my alarm, and it worked. For the next two days he used his potty and I internalised my anxiety of the ticking clock.

I don't know whether we're doing it right. We didn't read any books and I'm winging it with my instincts, but it seems to be working and I'm proud of my baby fast becoming a boy.


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