Saturday, 12 March 2011

Two days, two girls, two potties.

It's started.  We are officially potty training.  In an ideal world I'd have left it until the Summer, A&S will be two and a half by then, and it'll be warmer (i.e. not actually snowing, which it currently is) and so they can run around with no knickers on and wee in the garden.  But I'll also have a newborn, and I realise that there are limits to what I think I can manage, and simultaneous potty training, breast feeding and sleeping in three hour shifts seems to be taking masochism a little too far.

So.  The theory is that we start now, and they're done by the end of May.  Or something.

I had this great idea:  we'd start with just S.  She seems more ready than A - we've been plonking them on the potties before the bath for a while now, and S has definitely worked out what she's supposed to be doing.  A is more excited by the fact that she gets to wash her hands afterwards (which does have its upside, but isn't actually getting anything moving down below).  So on Wednesday, on my morning with just S, I took off the nappy and on with the brand new pants. 

It took seven minutes for her to have an accident.

It took a further twenty four minutes for her to have a really nasty, throw the pants away, use a whole packet of wipes accident.

We had three further accidents and one success before A and L came home.  

A took one look at S's new pants and insisted on having some too.  So much for doing them separately.

Here's how the first two days went:

Accidents:  S: 8   A: 1

Successes:  S: 5  A: 2

Daytime hours spent in nappies due to naps and midwife appointments: About six

Smarties eaten:  S: 8  A: 5  L: 3 Mummy: 0

Squares of cooking chocolate eaten:  Mummy: 6 (and a bit. Maybe)

Bottles of wine opened before lunchtime: None. I'm pregnant...

Actually, I stopped counting on Thursday evening after the first two days and since then (famous last words), S hasn't had an accident at all.  A, who seems to have an absolutely cast iron bladder that, if they weren't genetically identical, I'd say she must have inherited from her father, hasn't had many, but not many successes either. I'm not sure what she's doing with it, but am choosing to tell myself she must be sneaking off to the loo when I'm not looking...

... I live in hope.  Wish us luck.  It took six months for L really to crack this.  I suspect it's unlikely doing two at the same time is going to be any quicker.


  1. Potty training. My LEAST favourite bit of being a parent. Hated. Every. Minute.

    Good luck!!

    By the way, you need to redefine "accidents". They are "learning opportunities".

  2. oh dear, sending you a bucket of virtual patience and a stick on smile. I had a friend with a boy with a similar cast iron bladder, turns out he was filling the wellingtons in the cloakroom! (slightly harder for a girl - luckily!)

  3. Oh, my worst thing about parenting. I'm already dreading training Sam. Sending you positive thoughts and vibes and can't believe you are doing it whilst pregnant and can't resort to vodka to see you through the day!


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