Potty training bear

Bears need to be potty trained too!

THERE’S wee all over my house and I haven’t a baldy notion what I’m doing.

Ah potty training – how are ya?

The Beast turned three this week and has been showing an interest in potty training so we decided to go for it.

I bought a big ol’ pile of pants (22 of them) some big boy vests, a potty and a special toddler seat for the toilet and an enormous bottle of antibac spray, as well as 123 packets of kitchen roll and a bumper pack of Xanax for myself.

Sorted.

We started after breakfast, delighted with our big boy pants, sitting proudly on the toilet.

No wee wee came, but sure, that’s fine.

Still no wee wee came.

We sat and read books and sang songs but no, there was no wee wee.

Five minutes later there was an enormous puddle on the floor.

‘Ooops! Wee wee Mama,’ he shouted, looking confused at the pool spreading over the playroom.

Not to worry, accidents happen, next time we’ll do our wee wee in the toilet, won’t we?

Of course, he promised, fervently, skipping off to pick fresh pants.

I scrubbed up the wee and went to wash my hands, only to be stopped in my tracks by the sound of wee tinkling off my kitchen tiles.

He had done a second wee, within nano-seconds of the first one.

The pants were changed again, the floor scrubbed again and he went back to playing with his trains.

For five minutes.

Yes, another rogue wee. Three wees in six minutes, SURELY that’s some sort of record?

At least I know he’s well hydrated I suppose!

A while later he looked up at me and said ‘Oh! Wee wee in the toilet’ so off we sprinted to the loo and sat up on the toilet.

And sat there. And sat there.

Nothing.

Nada.

Nichts.

It was lunchtime then, so I got together a few bits on a plate and decided just before we sat up at the table that I’d try him again.

We sat there and then, gloriously, like the most beautiful of music we heard it – wee wee, trickling into the toilet.

WE HAVE LIFT OFF!

He turned surprised eyes on me as I danced and twerked about the downstairs loo like a CBeebies presenter on speed (aren’t they all, though?) delighted with himself: ‘There WAS wee wee Mama!’

Yes son, yes there was.

And then 40 minutes later there was some more in the toilet, glorious glorious wee.

It’s only day one and I forsee many MANY more puddles of wee in my future and who knows, it might end in disaster and we might have to put it off and try again in another few weeks.

But for today, for this afternoon, there is wee. And the wee is good.

 

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