Potty mouth

Today we decided to start potty training. Mothers from a generation ago will say, "Ooh, 18 months, that's a bit late, isn't it?" Anyone who's currently raising a child will say, "Are you mental? It's not possible to potty train a child under the age of two."

The big issue, apparently, is that disposable nappies are just too good - so babies these days tend not to know they're wet... and so it takes them longer to realise when they're going to the toilet. (Or rather, not going to the toilet.) In the meantime, Pampers are making a fortune as most babies are in nappies for a good year longer than they were when everyone wore cloth nappies.

In Eastern Europe, they tend to potty train much earlier than we do, and I have several friends from Lithuania and Romania at baby groups, with children roughly the same age as ours, whose babies - barring a couple of accidents - are already potty trained. Those who know me, know I'm competitive. It was time to potty train.

I'm a planner. We put aside the bank holiday weekend as a time we could be pretty much totally in the house all day, close to a potty, wandering round underwear-free (just the baby - TheBloke (TM) has already had complaints about this from the neighbours.). Today was the day we started.

We didn't get off to a great beginning. The baby woke up with a cold, and decided that the way she would most like to start her day was with a solid 45 minutes of whinging and crying.

Not to be deterred, after breakfast, I put her in a dress, with no nappy or underwear, showed her the potty again, and we practised sitting on it. Well, she did. I didn't really fit.

Fast forward twenty minutes. She had steadfastly avoided the potty, but had made a puddle on the floor.

"Never mind," I said brightly, fetching a cloth and some disinfectant. "This is why it's great we've got wooden floors!" I sat her on the potty to show what she needed to do. She picked up the potty and pretended to drink from it, making a satisfied, "Ahhhh" noise when she had finished her (hopefully) pretend drink.

I cleaned her up, and we went on our way.

It was close to the time of the morning when she normally has a poo. I sat her on the potty. She did not want to sit on the potty. She wandered round the house. I followed, with the potty.

The baby walked over to the door mat - literally the only piece of fabric we have downstairs, literally the only thing on the whole floor that wasn't wipe-clean... and, whilst standing up, did a massive turd, right in the middle of it.

I think the only word that could describe this is "spiteful".

At 9.00 a.m. today, I was tipping a giant turd from our doormat into the toilet. How was your day?

We quietly put the nappy back on at about 9.01, and haven't mentioned it again. Perhaps we'll be brave enough to try again tomorrow.