We have eventually embraced potty training. Upheavals, house moves and to-ing and fro-ing have meant it hasn’t happened until now, but now we’re truly in the midst of it. Conversation with my three year old currently revolves around the question of whether he needs the loo, where he’s at on his journey towards reward walkie-talkies and why pants are so much better than nappies.
So far, it’s all been happening while we’ve been hunkered down within these four walls to try and crack it before venturing out back into nappy-less normality. In between the numerous races up the stairs to the bathroom, it has been an unexpectedly sweet time. Having dithered and delayed in doing it because of the dread of the whole toilet training experience, I’ve been surprised by hidden gems of time with both boys.
I don’t know when I last spent this much time with my children without any distractions or interruptions. I’ve been reluctant to let Rufus out of my sight (for obvious reasons) and Billy has attached himself to me, mainly out of jealousy of his brother getting the attention. But what it has meant is that we’ve played, chatted, pottered (and pottied!) and argued our way through the days in ways that are usually squeezed out by my slightly hectic need to get out of the house and ‘do stuff’. Little did I know the quality time that comes with sitting by the loo, or the questions that come as a little brain is processing a new skill or the involvement and giggles over lego or play-dough while the phone is out of the way.
Having said that, the giggling gave way to grimaces and growls by the end of the day and we had to explode out into the cold, fresh air – making a break for it by escaping to a friend’s garden for a change of scene. And by the time we got out this afternoon, it was me who was gasping for an escape as everyone was losing the plot.
I think we’re en route to freedom, and are venturing further afield tomorrow, but possibly knowing each other better than before.