The P-word

Any regular readers wil know that I have been a bit obsessed with potty training R and G this year. A bit? Just a bit? On HoT 1.0 I mentioned PT in no less than 17 different posts and alluded to it in several others

(If you want the chronology, you can see here, here, here, here, here and here – but why would you want to?)

Anyway, R and G are done. DONE. Do you hear me? I used to write HOME RUN on the calendar on the extremely infrequent days that they would both decide not to have any accidents but they’ve had such a good run recently that I’ve got out of the habit of doing it.

Things have moved on so much now that they are now using the toilet…when the mood strikes them. They are better at using an actual toilet when we’re out and about (although we are still their potty sherpas) but are both phobic about powerful hand dryers “NOT THE HAND DRYER MUMMY!” and I have to promise to wipe my hands with a tissue after washing them. Of course, they use the toilets at nursery as a matter of course.

They are still in nappies at night, although G has had a run of a few nights where she’s woken up after a good night’s sleep with a dry nappy (R’s is usually full) but I’m not going to push the night training until their third birthday. It’s very odd to get through a paltry 14 nappies a week as opposed to 14 a day. A pack of Pampers now lasts ages. I used to have dry patches on my knees (insert inappropriate jokes here) where I was constantly kneeling on the floor to change nappies but I noticed last week that they have disappeared.

We’ve always bought cheap knickers from Primark or Asda but on Saturday I treated R and G to some (relatively expensive) Peppa Pig knickers from Next and R is absolutely determined that she won’t get them dirty because she (I quote) ‘Loves them’. What a change from the rebellious little R that used to do dirty protests when she was in a mood.

I’m not daft. I know that they could rebel, that they could start having accidents again, that R could have another wobbler, but I’m very, very pleased that despite a lot of huffing, puffing, weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth, we have managed to potty train the girls before their third birthday.

What was I whingeing about? It was a flipping doddle! 😉


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