If you ask a parent how to spell “impending doom”, they will probably say “P-O-T-T-Y T-R-A-I-N-I-N-G”. Today has definitely been one of those days.
Caden has almost cracked potty training completely and quite often will ask to go on the “big toilet”. I’m very proud of him and he’s surprised me by how well he’s doing. On the whole this has been a very rewarding experience but there have been some… less desirable happenings.
Like the time he proudly told me he’d done a really big poo then named it Lauren. Thanks for that, son.
Today came another less desirable happening. Earlier on I was minding my own business when I heard grunting from the general direction of the potty. Great, I thought, another wee! Well done Caden! I apply my best pride smile and turn around to find him squatting over his fire engine ride on, holding the seat up and peeing in the box underneath it like a urinal.
“What are you doing?!” I cry.
“I’m doing a wee in my nee naw!” He told me, puffing out his chest with pride. “Look, I did lots of wees!”
My stomach sinks further as I slowly follow his gaze towards the other two ride on toys. Sure enough there were small puddles forming underneath them. I look back at him then look at the potty beside him. Completely empty.
At least he managed to put the seats down.