TATE has spent the past week not wearing nappies during the day. Apart from the odd accident he has stayed dry, which is brilliant news for me despite the fact I have to take the potty everywhere we go.
My new catchphrase is ‘do you need a wee wee’? I tend to say it at least every half an hour and even when he says no I sit him on it anyway – he has perched on his potty in the park, outside shops and even on the York wheel, much to the distress of my friend Katy who was with us at the time.
We had a lovely dry day in York and going on the wheel was our last activity but I didn’t want to get caught out at the top so I took the potty.
I thought this was great forward planning but once we got on Katy asked the question ‘what are you going to do with it if he goes to the toilet?’.
True to form Tate relished the opportunity to have a wee at 200 feet and we were forced to share the ride with a full potty – thank goodness for air con!
On the plus side Tate thoroughly enjoyed the wheel and terrifyingly spent the whole time pushing his face against the glass doors, even though the doors are secured I couldn’t help but be on edge, constantly pulling him back and telling him to sit down and look out of the window.
At the end of the ride I had to say thank you to the staff while carrying a potty full of pee.
The only place I could think of to get rid of it was the park bin – there were no toilets!
So I apologise to the person who had to empty that bin but needs must.
TATE has been a nightmare for the past two weeks. I thought it was just him and that I had given birth to the devil but talking to a few of my parent friends who have kids the same age it seems to be a recurring theme for all little boys age two and a half.
The tantrum has taken on a whole new level – screaming, shouting flinging himself on the floor.
And the reason why?
Well, that’s the frustrating thing – it’s usually for the most trivial reason you could think of.
His ice lolly broke in half and ended up on the floor – meltdown; I only had banana yoghurts, not strawberry – meltdown; his red Lightning McQueen pants were in the wash so I dared to try and put the blue pair on him – meltdown.
Knowing how to deal with these outbursts is a tough one and something parents have been dealing with for years – personally I go for the ignore and walk away approach.
I don’t like to shout unless really necessary as I worry that it will lose the shock factor which I may need in the future.
So for now, riding out the storm in silence is my strategy but I imagine it’s only a matter of time before I inevitably raise my voice.