All hail the nappy

This week Mr S did something for the first time. He told me he needed to poo, he then got to the potty and did the poo in time. He normally falls short and has already done it in his pull ups by the time he has told me and we’ve got his pants down. But not this day, this day he made it. My gosh was he proud of himself and I was proud of him.  He stood up cheering and dancing and I was cheering and dancing along with him.

Then came Mr S favourite part of potty training. Taking it to the toilet, tipping the number ones and number twos in and then flushing. I don’t know why he loves this so much, I imagine because he sees grown ups use a toilet so it makes him feel like a big boy. Once we had finished the dancing we turned to get the potty and do the toilet run.

What happened next happened in slow motion.  THE DOG ATE IT! Yes you read that correctly. George my cheeky ‘overweight’ Jack Russell ate the shit. He didn’t even chew. He clearly knew what he was doing was wrong and that if he got caught he would be told not to eat it, so as quickly as he could he practically inhaled a toddlers turd.

I spent the next hour reliving the traumatic experience and dry heaving. I also spent the next hour listening to Mr S throw a tantrum because ‘Gorge’, which is what he calls George the dog, had eaten his poo and he didn’t get to flush it.

Potty training is so bloody stressful.

If the poo eating incident wasn’t bad enough there was more

1. Chasing after a toddler, waving a potty like a mad woman because he has a log hanging out of his cheeks and in his words doesn’t want it out.
2. Having your little boy sat at the side of the toilet, sobbing, because you flushed his wee in the toilet and he wanted to keep it.
3. Your younger child celebrating his older brothers use of the potty by picking up the potty and drinking piss.
4. Your toddler carrying a piece of poo too you because it came out on the floor.

It’s ridiculous.  When you have a baby and you change that first overly gross mustard nappy with only teeny wool balls and warm water , you  think to yourself this is it. This is the worst it can be. It can’t get any worse than  this, and it doesn’t, it actually does get better. The poops start to solidify a bit, you even get the odd cheeky one wipe. Then it happens the health visitor/grandma/friend mentions potty training. You get a bit cocky, I can do this you think, how hard can it be you think. You buy a potty, storybooks about a little boy who craps in all the right places, you Google tips on potty training. You got this mama bear.

Then you start trying, you get pissed on in the first hour and there’s a poo in your shoe. throw away the books, delete your Internet history, it’s all garbage. The only tip when it comes to potty training, persevere, buy a couple of mop heads and start finding poo funny.

Good day to you.

The truth about mothers day

The best thing about it almost being March is that means its almost Mothers day. I love mothers day. What mother wouldn't. You get breakfast in bed and presents, usually a variety of pink crap with variations of the word mum on it. Your children craft some weird splodge on a piece of paper which resembles a troll's vomit, but is apparently flowers. Whats not to love.

 

Last year however i explained to my husband that I loved him and the children, and for that reason I was going to save them the effort. Save the money you were going to spend on pink mum crap, don't waste your time burning my toast for me and I don't need my 100th 'flower' painting. Instead i want you to all wake up, quietly, so as not to wake me, get dressed and leave. Yes you read that correctly, I asked them all to leave. I obviously don't mean forever, just for the day.

As a tired, over stressed mother of 2 young boys, (they were 1 and 7 months at the time), all I wanted for MY day was to be alone. No early start, no shitty nappies, no bottles or post feed winding. Just me, myself and I. I'm sure there are plenty of people reading this in disgust. "Why would any mother want a mothers day without her children?" The answer to that is simple. I am a real mother, a mother who just wanted a break. A mother who wanted a day to lie and watch a movie while eating crap without having to share with the cubs. I am not ashamed of my perfect mothers day, if anything I am proud that I am able to hold my hands up and ask for a break, before I break.

I spend everyday I am not working with my children, showering them with love and teaching them the ways of the world. I love my boys further than the moon and back, but I wanted mothers day to become a tradition of mamas lazy day. My hubby was happy to oblige, he agreed that I deserved the break.

Hubby woke up and sneaked into the boys rooms where he got them dressed, (in awful mismatched clothes, but he tried), got their bags ready and off he went. I woke up to the sound of silence. It was lovely. There was no tears, no waft of morning nappies, just nothing.

I got up and had my breakfast where no one was grabbing at my toast or throwing their breakfast across the room, there was just nothing... again.

I went upstairs and had a bath with no cubs having a tantrum to get in with me, no rubber duck wedged between my cheeks and a lush bath bomb as opposed to a squirt of the kids top to toe wash. It was relaxing and there was the sound of nothing .... again.

I got out of my 'mama time' bath and sat on the edge of the bed. I was so relaxed and peaceful, I was able to dry my hair and put my make up on without my boys brushing, (or should i say yanking), my hair or sticking their grubby little paws into my Mac blusher. I was ready and there was .... nothing.

At this point I started to realise I didn't like nothing, I didn't like my beautifully annoying children not being here on a day where we should be celebrating me being their mama.  I didn't want nothing. I wanted screaming, cuddling and snotty noses. I never wanted there to be nothing again. Luckily mind reader hubby rang me at that point.

hubby - "everything OK, are you enjoying your alone day"
me - "sob, sob, waaaaa, snot, sob"
hubby - "don't worry, we're on our way, we will be home in 10 minutes"

So they came home and i opened my pink mum themed crap. I cooed over my troll sick 'flower' painting. I ate lunch brought to me on a tray. It was great............... for an hour, then I missed the nothing again.

Oh well not long till the next mamas day.

Good day to you x

(mothers day this year is March 26th, don't forget to spoil your mama's)

Date night

So tonight papa bear and I booked a hotel room. My mama was having the boys so date night was on. We booked a table in one of our favourite restaurants and got ourselves ready to be young and fun again. We had planned cocktails and an all nighter making the most of being just us two, child free.

Before we could leave to check into the hotel we had to sort our stuff out, while looking after and feeding 3 children.  This was fine it just meant we had to cut some corners.  I only painted the two toes you would see in my nude heels, I bought a new top instead of stressfully trying to find one that wasn’t permanently stained with something baby related  or just too tight and we forgot to eat.

As we had forgotten to eat and it was now too late to have lunch, we were ready and out by 5. We went for a drink first. We spent the drink acting like the old people we have become, “it’s so loud in here”, “why are there no seats” and the one I thought I’d never hear myself say, “there’s too many young people in here”. Yes I know I’m only 28, but by young people I mean annoyingly young people, a.k.a. haven’t had kids yet and still look fresh and well maintained, while I’m stood there with a full tube of concealer on my eye bags and dry shampooed hair because I am too tired to wash and dry it.

Next was the restaurant.  We had an amazing meal and plentiful conversation.  It wasn’t until the end of the meal however we realised that our main, (only), topic of conversation had been our boys. I’m sure we used to talk about modern culture, Pop music and having sex. Now we talk about modern parenting, nursery rhymes and when we used to have sex.

We finished our meal and turned down the waiters offer of another round of drinks. We decided it was much too late for that, so we were going to make our way back to the hotel for a nightcap and bed. As we left the restaurant hubby asked me what time it was.
“it’s late babe, (looks at watch), oh my God it’s only 6.45pm”
We looked at each other with the same look on our face. A look that said remember when we at 6.45pm we wouldn’t have even been out yet. Remember when  we used to come home at 6.45AM. Remember when a good night was defined by not being able to remember it. Clearly we have just become shit at this partying malarkey. Having kids 13 months apart will do that too you.

We headed to TGI Fridays and found seats at the bar. That way there would be no children around

and we could enjoy more adult time. We worked our way through the cocktail menu. We had new drinks, tried each others, my gosh we even held hands at one point.  We were really starting to relax and enjoy ourselves.

We hadn’t spoken about kids in ages. We were becoming us again, pre babies us. We were talking about things we wanted in our careers, hobbies we wanted to take up. It was like the old days. I was remembering everything that had attracted me to this man and he was looking at me as though he hadn’t seen me with my legs in stirrups, screaming in the labour ward. Then it happened. A man brought his 1 maybe 2 year old child to the bar. The child had very similar mannerisms to Mr B. We were both sucked  in to the child vortex and the mood changed. I began wishing we weren’t staying in the hotel, “I want to kiss the boys night night”. I also began asking hubby.......... “can we have another baby”. (I was drunk and my ovaries were activated by the cuteness of the child at the bar). Luckily hubby took it in his stride, he calmly reminded me this was our first child free night this year and that our children had woke us up at 5am that morning. “yes your right hubby, no more babies, but lots more cocktails wooooooooooooo”
At this point hubby took me back to the room.

When we got back to the hotel all my dreams came true. I got in bed, hubby made me a hot steaming cup of tea, We shared some biscuits, watched crappy tv and then went to sleep knowing we wouldn’t be woken by crying, being sat on or someone demanding breakfast.

Best date night ever!



Good day to you x

Just a side note – I love my life with my hubby and children, and wouldn’t have it any other way. this is merely an explanation of life after birth, because for some reason they don’t put that in the parenting guides.