Where my son decides to shit is none of your beeswax

 

Today my son did a shit (as he does every day).

Today it was in front of a plumber in his nappy (my son’s, not the plumber’s) – which doesn’t happen everyday. As the plumber looked at my baby and my three year old boy remarking “looks like you’ve got your hands full!” the distinct waft of turd meandered through the room.

I took him upstairs (my son, not the plumber), had a little chat with him that I would prefer it if he notified me before he did a poo poo that he was going to do a poo poo instead of just coming over and standing 1cm next to me while I’m tucking into a lemon drizzle muffin and a Yorkshire tea and coyly murmuring that he’s “done a big wee wee mummy”.

Over the last year I have had subtle comments over potty training and that he should be trained already – like he’s a wayward stray mongrel that pisses all over my white goods. I’ve had the sidewards stare, the passive aggressive purchasing of pull up nappies and underpants and even had the oh so useful ‘I’m going to talk to you by pretending to talk through your child’ moments:

“Hello darling, have you done a poo poo today? Does your mummy know? Shall I take you to the toilets? Will she maybe think about showing you the POT-TEA between her pedicures and sambuca shots?”

I’m not sure what they are scared of:

  • That he is desperate to use a potty but I’m restricting his growth due to severe attachment issues to my pristine toilet tiles.
  • That if I leave it much later he will be the only person at his University Fresher’s week sat in the corner in his own excrement?
  • That this will be his ‘Thing’ – you know, that kid, you know him? he’s still in nappies but he really does a great Hamlet soliloquy when he’s pressed.
  • That one day they will shit all over their new conservatory?

 

There’s no bloody rush. He will get it. So back off please. It’s none of your business.

Truly it isn’t – and he will get it when he’s ready. Just like walking, talking, riding a bike, swimming – I have no intention of throwing him into the pool and watching him drown just because it’ll make you feel better.

Mummy….. out (drops mic).

 

 

 

 

 

Five signs you have a C.H.I.L.D who has really started talking

1 / You will start S.P.E.L.L.I.N.G everything out when your child starts really talking. Several words in a sentence may be spelled out depending on the details.

You might be heard saying: “Darling, I’m just popping to the S.H.O.P to get some stuff, I might get some C.A.K.E but he can’t have another P.E.P.P.A.P.I.G.M.A.G.A.Z.I.N.E. and I need him to go to B.E.D by seven tonight because I am F.*.C.K.E.D.

The other half stares at you as though he’s trying to answer a University Challenge maths’ question. You can see his cogs turning “M…A…G… oh yes.”

Sometimes you will forget to spell out the important word and you’ll stare at each other in horror in complete silence listening to toddler footsteps running towards you like people watching the water shake in a cup knowing a T-Rex is on its way.

This is how to spot a parent of a child who has ‘really’ started talking. For what seems like an age now he’s been rocking about saying singular words, perhaps numbers, colours, Iggle Piggle and Daddy Pig. But suddenly he’s graduated to an all listening, all repeating, all talking mini adult with an annoyingly high pitched adorable voice.
Here are some more signs:

2 / You – a champion swearer who usually resembles a sort of tired mum version of Father Jack will start being incredibly self righteous about bad language. All of a sudden it’s not ok anymore – and everyone needs to get on board. Ok?

You might be heard saying: “Er…. darling, I don’t think you should say S.H.I.T in front of him you know. He’s like a sponge darling, and you really are setting a bad example, don’t be a T.W.A…”

And when the child isn’t around you’ll swear 150% more than you used to – just to get it out of your system.

3/ You will think every single thing the child says is the funniest, wittiest and most intelligent thing anyone has ever said. You will post his sentences on facebook and twitter and wonder why you haven’t got any likes. You’ll tell friends and family in person these anecdotes before realising they are not anecdotes.

You might be heard saying: “Oh my God! You will not believe what he just said. He just said ‘mummy, put your Tea on the floor’ can you believe that? He is so, so clever! And last Wednesday he said “it’s too high up mummy’ isn’t that hilarious? Hello…hello…are you still there?”

4/ You will be amazed at how quickly the sound of your child chatting away can get, well, tired. And you’re utterly exhausted with listening and answering questions. It’s only seven in the morning and you’ve already labelled everything in the kitchen, named all of his dinosaurs and talked through the plot of Hoodwinked.

“what’s that mummy?”
“It’s a nutribullet darling”
“what’s that mummy?”
“that’s an avocado darling”
“what’s that mummy?”
“that’s a brioche darling.”
“what’s that mummy?”
“that’s a bag for life darling.” etc.

5/ The kids will be in bed, you will have had a couple of glasses of wine, but you can’t turn off your new parent with a C.H.I.L.D way of communicating. All of these things will combine and collide making you sound like a couple of unhinged maniacs.

“Darling, I’m going to run to L.O.N.D.I.S cause I really fancy a T.W.I.X and mummy needs chocolate. Ok? Knobhead.”

Dealing with your fussy eater child

mummy's writing darling

I have based my findings on years of research with my own fussy eater toddler child. Do not attempt these tactics with other people’s fussy eater children or with fussy eater adults due to ethical reasons.

Also you can just tell the fussy eater adult to sod off and never come for tea again.

Firstly : Lower your expectations. Starting each day assuming your fussy eater child will not eat anything they are given means you will be pleasantly surprised when they eat a spoonful of chocolate cake last thing before bedtime. 

Don’t put a lot of effort into making anything you would be upset to see thrown against a wall or tipped down a toilet. 

Don’t try and work out the formula of what will make a fussy eater eat a certain food. There is no formula. It is a complete random set of serendipitous sporadic stimuli that will work one moment of one day – usually never to be repeated.

Don’t attempt a restrictive diet yourself during this time. A woman can’t be expected to abstain from carbs when she’s forced to sit in front of hot buttered toast for an hour.

Watching your child ignore it and refuse to eat it will make you want to scream “You don’t know you’re born!” before rubbing the toast over your face and toasting the rest of the loaf for yourself using your hands to eat Lurpack while you’re waiting.

Compromise. Let them have it the way they want it. It may make you gag to eat stone cold baked beans, but they like it that way so just go with it.

Lie. I’m sure there are lots of ethical reasons why you shouldn’t lie about what you are feeding a person. But they’re your kids. They’re your fussy eater. So lie.

“Yes darling, this is Peppa pig yogurt (semolina) and this is Peppa pig yogurt (sweet potato mash) oh, and look at this amazing Peppa pig yogurt (humous).”

Any new food is a victory, even if technically it’s a Ritz cracker. It’s a new food group! “There you go, dip it in your Peppa pig yogurt son!”

Always remain poised for spontaneous regurgitation.

Especially if you’ve tried to conceal a healthy foodstuff under the usual crap. You play with fire – you’re going to get spewed on.

Try to find the positive in anything they will eat. “He ate lemon cake, so that’s one of his five a day.” “He ate the breadcrumbs on a fish finger – so thats Omega something isn’t it?” “He ate baked beans so he must be over his, ‘I only eat beige things’ phase!”

Tell yourself every day that this is just a phase and they won’t grow up to be one of those “freaky eaters” who will only eat ready salted crisps and diet lemonade.

It’s not like it’s hereditary … I have no problem eating anything. Except Oysters, ooh… wonder if he’ll give an oyster a go? Maybe if I hide it in a Peppa pig yogurt.

Block out all memories of how you used to imagine pre kids that your children would eat what they were given. Especially fruit and veg! You weren’t to know you were being a tit.