We’re a working week into our potty training plan, and we’re not taking it any further. We’ve decided that she’s actually not ready yet, and it’s just going to be unnecessarily stressful for everyone involved if we continue.
After days three and four in nursery there had been 9 and 10 accidents and changes of clothes and although she has an excellent understanding of what the potty is for and how to use it, she physically can not hold back her bladder. It’s always too late for the potty by the time she realised what was going on, and Thursday night me and wifey had a long chat to decide whether we should brave the storm and stand strong in defiance, or give it one more day and if there’s no sign of any improvement we’d call it a day.
So day five came and there’s been another 10 changes of clothes so we’re going back to nappies full time tomorrow, and we’ll try again in a few months. >
Our key worker at nursery has suggested it’s time and my head is filled with two very different thoughts:
- She’s doesn’t seem to have been a baby for very long, she’s growing up so fast!
- Oh my god, there’s going to be piss and shit everywhere for weeks, how quickly is it possible to learn?!
It really does feel like a big step to her own “self sufficiency”. With every step, even at this tiny age, living grows and so does the fear if the inevitable “letting them go”.
They really do grow up very fast!
I got her out of her sleeping bag and there was shit everywhere. Thank god it had somehow been contained within her pyjamas, but everything below the waist was smeared with poo, and soon it had spread to my knees and legs as I kneeled in front of her.
As I cleaned up the stinking mess, a scene from the Adam and Joe show on 6music came to mind…
Happy Father’s Day dads!
Wifey got a call from her sister, to tell her that our niece had just sharted all over her. This is a new word I’ve learnt, when a shit and fart are combined, and faeces is sprayed over a wide area. My poor sister in law was splattered in poo.
Thankfully she could see the funny side, and was quick to share the story with us for our amusement.
Thankfully I have only been urinated over so far, though I’m sure I’ll be sharted upon at some point…
During feeding time last night baby daughter last night managed to fire a poo out her nappy and right up her back, almost to her neck. Her whole back was literally covered in mustard poo. Half a packet of baby wipes latter I still couldn’t work out quite how she’d done it.
I am both disgusted and impressed.
I’ve always been a social swearer, and enjoy using a well timed swear word to add impact. But lately it’s got out of control and it’s completely down to our new arrival.
I’ve called her some terrible things late at night or early in the morning, to the point where I’m concerned her first word is going to be something obscene.
Here’s a list of contenders for first word:
- Fucktard I’m not sure where this came from, a combination of fucker and retard, neither of which I’m proud of.
- Fucking poppers I have learnt to hate with vengeance the poppers found on almost every item of baby clothing.
- Cunting poppers Again, I hate these things. Hate them.
- Fucking cunt fuck When one expletive isn’t enough, add another and repeat.
- Shitting hell Usually used when an unexpected bladder or bowel movement occurs.
- Oh for fucks sake Just when you think everything’s cleared up, the change mat is flooded or a bottle of milk gets sprayed over the nursery.
- Fuckety fuck For general use when something diddly is trying to be achieved and baby wriggles all over the place.
- Shitballs Similar to “oh for fucks sake, used in desperation at an unexpected event.
I’m certainly not proud of muttering any of these phrases, it’s not some sort of league table to compete with other dads, just something to share with other dads who may have felt similar frustrations.
Your mind is not your own at 4:30 in the morning and your hands are covered in piss.
Today I saw pretty much everything my baby had to offer – wee, poo, wee over poo, poo on wee and vomit everywhere.
So many changes of clothes, so much sticky foul smelling fluid and mush.
I’m not squeamish but it’s all been pretty disgusting.
The most frustrating part is the time it all takes up. Your time becomes so precious, snatching a few minutes to send a text message or read an email. One explosive vomiting incident and it’s all gone as baby and bedding are stripped bare and replaced with new clothes and covers as if nothing had ever happened except the clock jumping forward 20 minutes.
To summarise the first week of being a dad:
- Hearing your partner shout “I need to push!” when you’re still at home and 40 minutes away from the hospital is terrifying.
- Driving with your partner in the back seat, in labour, chanting “don’t push, don’t push” is almost as terrifying.
- Being in a room with 10 strangers all looking at your completely naked wife is just weird.
- Somehow there was a small part of me that still didn’t quite believe there was a baby inside wifey, but seeing it actually delivered changed that pretty quickly.
- Labour is fucking intense. Unbelievably so. Fucking amazing, but fucking intense. Expletives are fully justified.
- Women are tough. They give everything they’ve got for 15 hours and somehow give even more, for another 90 minutes.
- A ventouse delivery is equally freaky and scary.
- Holding your baby for the first time is absolutely awesome.
- Seeing wifey go through it all is pretty traumatic
- The NHS is awesome. Could not have imagined better care, seriously. Very impressed.
- Having to leave your baby for the first time to go and get some sleep can be quite emotional for everyone involved.
- Sleep will never be the same again
- When I asked new parents about surviving with the lack of sleep, they said “you just do”. I now understand this fully.
- Your relationship with your own parents gets taken to another level of appreciation and gratitude.
- Digital cameras were made for babies.
- You crash and burn spectacularly on the 3rd / 4th day.
- Time flies very fast. “she’s a week old already?!”
- Breast feeding can be a mean bitch of a job.
- Nothing can gross you out any more. I’ve been wee’d on, poo’d on and vomited all over, but the only thought is “is the baby ok?!”
- Modern smartphones were invented to keep geeky dads like me sane during the unsocial hours.
- Driving home with your baby for the first time is almost as scary as driving to the hospital with your partner in labour.
Not a conclusive list but gives you a rough idea of things.