What next… it’s not a question.

After a morning that didn’t go according to plan, where I may or may not have made things unnecessarily more complicated for myself, the afternoon culminated in 3.5yo pooing in the bushes, and then in the car porta-potty, stinks stinks stinks.
I was going to write about all that stuff, but it was a few weeks ago and what else is there except poo in the bushes.

Oh, poo!

I have successfully partnered with 3 children to reach the competence of Toilet Trained. However, 3yo has regressed a little to the point where he won’t go to the bathroom without me. Hopefully, back at home from vacation, his own bed and our routine will accelerate him back to where he was. I also drew up a handy chart for reinforecment and encouragement.


In the mean time, I have composed this:

‘An Ode to the Commode’.

I don’t dance – I try but fail
to catch the tune;
I fall and flail.
But when my son is on the can,
it seems my bladder can’t refrain
from needing to void right then and there!
So I must move and swing my hair
to take my mind off the unending doom
of being alone with him in the bathroom.
I kick up my heels and swing my hips
to keep cries of desperation rising from my lips.
Because, you see, when he does a poo,
it just so happens I need to go, too.


As a mother I know there will be poo, as a person I cannot stand poo. As a parent I have toilet trained 2.5 children and poo is the worst part.

Poo usually comes first when toilet training, at least it did for our two elder boys, then working on the wizzer is what takes the better part of the rest of their lives, or so it would seem, considering the state of their bathroom. Our youngest, however, has taken to bladder control like a champion, but won’t sit on the toilet when it really counts for love nor money, nor chocolates, toys nor the riches of middle earth. I don’t know how to overcome this hurdle, each time he sweetly repeats the mantra “no poo in the underpants” he’ll carry on playing and then *unpleasant sigh*, then I commence the business of cleaning them or just throwing them away. I have started putting him back in nappies/diapers after he does his morning man wee, and also after naps as that is when he usually goes, but geez! Where will it end? I live in fear on the afternoons of the days when he goes to preschool, of getting a nasty pair of underpants wrapped in a plastic bag in his backpack when I unpack the lunchboxes.

Of course, I know that we are very lucky that he has mastered his bladder this early. In fact, his brothers also did quite well in the toilet training department (and dare I say, the looks department), or perhaps my memory is foggy after a few short years. I also think that anytime I get someone else’s poo on my skin it destroys brain cells, so don’t quote me on that.