I have been a mother for 1682 days. I have changed countless nappies, fully toilet trained one kid and am just about done with the other one. The end is in sight! But I’ve still got a way to go. I still have to to be greeted with the vertical brown smile when they “touch their toes” or “do a ducky dive” for number 2’s, deal with the nine kilo night nappy and clean up the accidents. It’s just life.
Remember the time I ranted about all the poo stuff with babies? Well that is nothing compared to the treachery that is toilet training toddlers. NOTHING. Gimme the tidal wave of turd and a sneaky poonami over this any day of the week.
Last week my little man took a dump behind the couch. There are many things wrong with this. I’d taken his night nappy off and zipped his onesie back up while I went to fetch his clothes, during which time he took himself to a private corner and crapped in his suit. And because it was 6.30am I wasn’t really thinking when I began scraping off the poo with an empty box from the recycling bin into the toilet. Yeah. I did that. Because what should have been an incinerated onesie became a desperate fight between one woman, a sink and some very stinky hands from which the stench has only just left.
Yep, toilet training can go suck a bag of dicks, this shit is not easy! Pun fully intended. Both of my kids have instigated the process themselves, taking some of the readiness and control on my side away. And once you’ve committed, you really can’t go back.
The worst bits of toilet training for me (in no particular order).
The time(s) my dog ate the shit right out of the potty.
Yep, you heard correctly. I only have one set of hands, and the minute I turn around to deal with poopy butt holes, my dogs have scarfed it straight outta the bowl.
The 3 kilo bag of crap I had presented to me at daycare.
Day 1 of no nappies at daycare and the protocol is to just hand you that bag of shitty undies like a lolly bag at the end of a party. Except this is the sort of treat nobody wants to take home. BIN!
Oh my god, this has to be my worst nightmare. Teeny people wanting to be “such a big boy/girl” and do it all by themselves. They have to hang onto the sides of the toilet with their little hands so they don’t fall in. The bacteria! OMFG! Then if you get through that alive and need to do a quick wee yourself, they are diving into the sanitary bin in a scene reminiscent of Deadpool, where he cuts his own hand off. “Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret”.
Fuck. My. Life.
My Fisher Price talking potty.
This thing that starts singing in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. SPOOKY!
The Choc Wedge
This is the really fun part, where you have an unwilling-to-have-their-ass-wiped toddler with a crack crammed full of shit. It may or may not be runny, but it sure as hell is a work of art and requires much stamina to clean without dry heaving. Fuck you choc wedge.
Everything smells like wee
Everything. My house smells like an old peoples home and I’ve got 65 million pairs of little undies on the line at any given time. Thank fuck for tiles and wooden floor boards.
Pull Ups are the new Avocado Smash
Up to $1 a pair, are you fucking kidding me? Surely these things are easier to make because they don’t have the little tabs on them? Another example of baby products costing a fortune for no good reason. Fuck you Pull Ups.
So there you have it. My most hated parts of toilet training. But it’s almost over for me. Just this morning my little guy took himself to the downstairs toilet and did a poo all by himself! Yes, he clenched his cheeks together tighter than a vice so it was hard to extricate the leftovers, but in time we will get plenty of “clean snaps” to celebrate this huge milestone. What a champion.
Are you up shit creek without a pull up? Tell me about it.