We have bitten the bullet. We say (with much conviction) After Christmas there will be no nappies. That’s it! No more!Yep, Christmas came and we changed nappies all day, chanted the no-nappy-mantra in our minds, then as the haze of our sugar-loaded bravado waned, and we fell into sleep (read sleep as diabetic coma) we braced ourselves for the onslaught of poo-pants and wee-wee puddles; oodles of washing and perhaps a little poo-painting along the way.
Oh god, no more nappies.
What are we going to do?
But Boxing Day came and we opened the packet of Bob-the-Builder underpants and said 'oo look! would you like to wear Bob, Scoop or Dizzy?' to which he promptly replied 'Scoop!' and we all cheered that he had not chosen Muck and then had the little chat about how we were going to keep Scoop clean and dry all day and that there would be a reward for doing so.
It has been one week now and our boy is now sans-nappies (except for sleep) and it has been surprisingly easy.
The secret to our success?
TELEVISION.
We have tried chocolate and cake as suitable diversions/incentives, but telly has won out I’m afraid.
Yes, in the same way that heroin addicts are given methadone as incentive to not jab a drug-filled needle into their arm, we are encouraging an episode of Chuggington for success with potty. (The going rate at present is one poo=one Chuggington. Wee-wees have lesser value at two wees for an episode). He understands the currency so well that when Chuggington finishes, he promptly tells us that he is going to try for another episode. We have had to instil the ‘wee-wee must cover the entire base of the potty to be considered’.
Poo-poos? He understands the excitement and reward of the chocolate snail (as he calls it) in the potty, and has been successful thus far, but I think both he (and we) find the poo a rather stressful occasion.
First, we need to locate the exact right area for placement of potty and then we are all required to be calm, remove scoop-undies, sit and wait for the poo to come. Easier said than done. As adults we know that the poo can, and sometimes does, take a while to arrive. We also understand the difference between a fart and a solid mass emanating from our botty, and let's be completely honest here, the poo may also involve a fair bit of pushing. We know this, we are prepared for it. Hell, some of us even consider it a great way to catch up on current affairs and use the time to read the local paper. BUT, the toddler cannot read just yet and doesn't really grasp the fact that the grunting and face straining that he has done up to now has resulted in the poo. Poos just happen, they smell, are relatively warm and squishy and they get cleaned up by parents.
We live in hope.
Yes, in the same way that heroin addicts are given methadone as incentive to not jab a drug-filled needle into their arm, we are encouraging an episode of Chuggington for success with potty. (The going rate at present is one poo=one Chuggington. Wee-wees have lesser value at two wees for an episode). He understands the currency so well that when Chuggington finishes, he promptly tells us that he is going to try for another episode. We have had to instil the ‘wee-wee must cover the entire base of the potty to be considered’.
Poo-poos? He understands the excitement and reward of the chocolate snail (as he calls it) in the potty, and has been successful thus far, but I think both he (and we) find the poo a rather stressful occasion.
First, we need to locate the exact right area for placement of potty and then we are all required to be calm, remove scoop-undies, sit and wait for the poo to come. Easier said than done. As adults we know that the poo can, and sometimes does, take a while to arrive. We also understand the difference between a fart and a solid mass emanating from our botty, and let's be completely honest here, the poo may also involve a fair bit of pushing. We know this, we are prepared for it. Hell, some of us even consider it a great way to catch up on current affairs and use the time to read the local paper. BUT, the toddler cannot read just yet and doesn't really grasp the fact that the grunting and face straining that he has done up to now has resulted in the poo. Poos just happen, they smell, are relatively warm and squishy and they get cleaned up by parents.
We live in hope.
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