Today has been slightly less frantic. Not by much, it has to be said. Although I am blessed in that the lawn hasn’t grown too quickly overnight and that was one less thing to worry about. Plus, I am excited. I found the passports. Not only did I find them, but they were actually where I thought they might be when I had a little ponder about where a woman such as I (ditzy of brain) might have thought was a good place to put them. This, coupled with the fact that they are all in date and no trips to Peterborough have to be undertaken at vast expense, has made me tearful with joy. It’s good when you start out your days with very low expectations. It doesn’t take much to turn me into Gwyneth Paltrow accepting an Oscar.
I have also managed to book a last minute hair appointment for tomorrow morning. I am very excited about the fact that in a few short hours I will actually be able to see properly and I will also look less like a demented, ageing, Afghan hound. Oscar will be in nursery where the wee and pooh will be their problem, and I will not feel in the slightest bit guilty because it is the sort of thing I am paying for.
On the whole potty training front I have made some vitally important deductions. Hang on a moment while I don my deer stalker and light the Meerschaum. Ahem:
- The more tired he gets, the more he wets his drawers. Obvious to all but a frazzled mother doused in pee and tearing her eyebrows off I think.
- He is much more likely to go/try to go if I also announce that I need to go. Consequently we have done quite a lot of tandem weeing today. Not my idea of a good time, but less strain on the washing machine is a good thing, and as I have no privacy, personal space or modesty any more, what does it matter? The only thing I will not stoop too is actually having a wee in the potty myself. I tried it once when Tilly was embarking upon her training. This was only because there were no other siblings to take her in hand and she mainly wanted to fill the potty with flowers and sandwiches. Something had to be done, and I did it. Thankfully there are now other, shorter people with more flexible thigh muscles to demonstrate such piddling prowess and I can bow out.
- The final gem is that he is mostly fine doing wees. He wees with aplomb and on occasion, verve. One is tempted to give him marks for style and presentation. He is not fine with doing poohs. He is frightened of doing poohs that aren’t safely cocooned within the environs of his nappy. This is what causes meltdown, and did, twice today. Once in John Lewis’ rug department (thankfully he was standing up, and not on a rug), and once in ASK Pizza. Luckily we had finished eating. He gets really distressed and actually whimpers.
What do I do readers? I have never had a child who was afeared of pooh before. In fact I’ve usually had the opposite problem. I am drawing a blank. Tell me your tales of woe and jubilation. No mention of corks please.
I have decided several things:
- You are right. He will be back in nappies for the holidays. For most, if not all of it, and certainly the travelling parts. I don’t care if it does him psychological damage. I’ll pay the therapist double later.
- In the meantime I am going to soldier on for as long as he wants to stay in pants. I am reaching a state of zen like calm about it, which is known as exhaustion. This leads to a certain Ca ne fait rien about it all. So what if he defecates on a four hundred and fifty pound tufted Wilton in John Lewis? I just don’t care. This approach reaped dividends today, and we were both much less stressed about it all. As my granny used to say; ‘Shit luck’s good luck.’ I’m about the luckiest person on the planet right now, and we could certainly do with it. I shall embrace my fate. I’m just chock full of lucky at the moment.
- I am going to find out more about pooh phobia. I may well specialise in it in later years. That and coping well during bereavements will be my forte. Bring it on.
In other, non excrement related news, I have scored a minor triumph by actually going out to buy Tallulah a sun hat, purchasing the hat, bringing it home successfully and finding out that I have purchased an approved, well fitting hat that has passed strenuous tests by a panel of five year olds. Well done me.
Jason is still struggling away at the coal face of not smoking. I am taking bets on whether he implodes, explodes or murders us all in our beds first. I’m still undecided. At this point it could go either way. Work is exhausting, home is exhausting and he is currently sitting in the corner of the study, scowling and sorting through mountains of paperwork. We are all tiptoeing round him on our eyebrows. Even the kids have worked out that things are not all bon and la on the father front. Still, these things have to be done, and why not now, when we are possibly more stressed than we have ever been? Actually, as I pointed out to my maman as we chatted on the phone today, our life is full of these kinds of stressful incidents, so there is no ‘good time’ to give up smoking. I know this because I have never smoked, but at least once a month I find myself thinking: ‘I wonder if this situation would be less stressful if I could nip out now and have a fag?’ I often think about taking it up. I have never liked to be on trend.
Right now I could do with a huge, fat Havana cigar, rolled on the thighs of a dusky maiden. That’s what.
Sorry about the saying by the way. It’s a family thing. I have no idea why. I’ve never seen anyone in my family actually smoke a cigar, and certainly not one rolled on the thighs of a dusky maiden, but there you go.
Oh god I feel your pain on the pooing front. Thank god those days are behind us. My child was afraid to poo as it was the sensation of ‘dropping’ that freaked him out. So one day while he sat of the loo screaming that he was going to poo and that he wanted to get off, I held him on. I took all of my strength. I encouraged him through gritted teeth to make the biggest splash he could.
The moment came when he couldn’t hold back the poo flood any longer and out it came. The look on his face went from sheer terror to ‘Wot? Is that it?’ in seconds. I applauded the splash with my best poo dance and from thereonin, the fear of poo was gone.
No idea if that helps.
I tried that this morning with little success. I think that the key was that he wasn’t absolutely desperate at that point. I will keep my eye on him and try it when he has no choice but to give it his all.
Thank you for the tip. I’ll try almost anything at the moment and it could have been a lot worse.
I love the idea of someone pooing on a rug in my JL. Please visit, it would really shake things up.
Many years ago, a child (i hope!) did one in the Little Tykes Country Cottage on the toy department. It was lovely.
Sometimes, so i’m told, the fear of poo can be because they think it part of them and don’t like the idea of flushing bits of themselves away. My niece was like that- having a nappy to poo in kept it ‘close’ , as it were. Ughhh!
Perhaps you should just leave him in nappies until he’s decided to toilet train himself. Once he realises that all his friends use the loo properly, he’ll want to as well. But what do I know? I had to be taken to the hospital for laxatives at the age of 4 because I refused to go, full stop. But I’m fully toilet trained now so obviously it DOES work!
I’d tell Jason to be kind to himself and just to light up and have done with it for now & try again later when things aren’t so wrist-slittingly awful. And how can he possibly enjoy wine in France without a gasper? I had a friend who was a heavy-ish smoker who felt she should give up when she fell pregnant but found it incredibly stressful. The doctor told her the stress of her trying to give up was doing more harm to the baby than her smoking, so she just lit up and chilled out. Can’t remember when you said you were off but if we don’t hear from you before then, I truly hope you all have a lovely, lovely time…
See, this is exactly what I keep telling Jan – if I have low expectations I can only be pleasantly surprised. But does he believe me? Nooo, I just get told off for being a pessimist!
Nothing to add on the pooh front, having never potty trained a child. I am using your comments section to gather ideas for when I do though
My oldest had a fear of pooing on the loo too. He got into the habit of ‘performing’ first thing in the morning, when he still had a nappy on, and also after his nap (when he also had a nappy on). We tried to encourage him but ultimately with him the more you encourage and insist, the more likely it is that he will resist all the more. This went on for – oh God knows. Several months? A year? I can’t remember now but I remember being quite irritated and concerned about it at the time. Eventually he just did it. I think the tiny loos at his nursery helped – or watching all the other kids – or the fact that I no longer seemed bothered. Who knows?
My oldest had a fear of pooing on the loo too. He got into the habit of ‘performing’ first thing in the morning, when he still had a nappy on, and also after his nap (when he also had a nappy on). We tried to encourage him but ultimately with him the more you encourage and insist, the more likely it is that he will resist all the more. This went on for – oh God knows. Several months? A year? I can’t remember now but I remember being quite irritated and concerned about it at the time. Eventually he just did it. I think the tiny loos at his nursery helped – or watching all the other kids – or the fact that I no longer seemed bothered. Who knows?
My eldest had the poo fear too. My Health Visitor said boys quite often had this problem, seemed to be linked with fear of bits (or possibly just the penis) falling off! For quite a few weeks after being wee trained he would poo in his nappy at night or early in the morning. Finally stopped when he poo-ed in the bath and accepted it wasn’t ‘joined’ to him and we had no more problems after that. The younger one used to go into a corner to poo even before potty training so we always knew when to grab him so it was never a problem. I’m sure Oscar will be fine soon. Although I only had boys of my own I trained several little girls too in my childminding days and have to say they were easier and quicker than any of the boys.
My sympathies to Jason on the non-smoking journey but it is really worth doing. The first couple of weeks are awful and the next two not so bad and it’s uphill from then onwards, honest. It’s 23 years since I finally gave up for good.
For two of my children, poo training needed to be kept as a completely separate phase of toiltet training. Wee training was accomplished with ease but poo took a few months in both cases. He may not be ready to poo train?
I have to say that if I were you I would give up all together and put him back in nappies. We went back and forth with Pudding, sometimes happy to use the potty, sometimes weeing everywhere, and in the end we waited and went back to nappies until one day, a month after his third birthday, he asked to go to the toilet and after two days of very few accidents we have had virtually no accidents since. He is stubborn and willful and it had to be all his own idea. Also, I think sometimes boys can be a bit slower with the getting a grip on bodily functions. It was way less stressful leaving it than persisting with the mountains of pissy washing in the end but I am slothful.
x
Jo
I’m so making a pilgrimage with him to your branch! I may even dance around it once he has deposited. You can have the honour of escorting us off the premises.
Mrs Jones
He’s adamant he wants to wear pants and use the toilet, just not for poohs. I feel that if I stop him wearing them that may create as many problems as it solves. I think I will stick with it until he requests to go back to nappies and then I’m all over it like a rash. I don’t know why we all don’t still wear them. Oh yes. It’s because they’re gross!
Jason is determined to quit this time and so, as with my youngest boy, I provide back up and shoulders to cry on, and we soldier on. I must be insane.
Bev
You’re going to be such a wise mother!
Nicola
I’m banking on the ‘it’ll solve itself’ idea, as long as I remain supportive. That’s the hard bit.
Sharon
Yes. The girls were much easier, although it could be my selective memory playing up there.
I am very impressed that Jason has gotten this far and I too think it will be worth it in the long run, particularly given the last few weeks. Although it’s stressful, it’s not as stressful as living with those fears every time he lights up.
Ali
Yes. I think you’re right. Today he only had one accident with wee, and again it was when he was really tired. The pooh was a different matter entirely. If it wasn’t so disgusting I would be very interested in it psychologically. As it is, I am just not thinking about it.