Trumpeting success...

Well, this is Sparx’ Motherhood brain here taking over the blog for just a teensy tiny moment. She’s currently sat in front of her computer wondering how to phrase today’s events in a way that doesn’t make her sound like the world’s biggest pig of a pushy Mum. So, I’ll just step in because crowing about the spud’s achievements in a completely ridiculous fashion is My Kind Of Thing. So here goes – my son… that’s MY son, who is LESS than a year and a half old thank you very much, yes that’s my son, by the way, my son used his potty today for the first time! Yes, that’s right – he sat down, did a wee and stood back up, all on his own. Thank you. Yes, I know, that Is amazing. Isn’t it? Thank you, thank you, no I don’t mind signing that autograph. A book deal, you say? Why, thank you very much.

Erm… ack. Sorry about that. I think I may have just laid an entire ostrich egg here...

Anyway, yes it’s true. Not perhaps quite so spectacularly true once put into context but, you know, near as dammit.

One of the many, multitudinous reasons that we decided to go for cloth nappies was in hope that our little bundle of wee would hate walking around with a wodge of wet cotton between his thighs enough to want to use a regular potty some time before he could use a computer.

More to the point, we didn’t much fancy three years of nappy changes and anything we could do to speed the journey to potty would be a Good Thing. So, without actively menacing our son over the toilet, we have been giving him a few little pointers here and there and recently this took the form of purchasing him a potty and installing it in the loo.

We decided on one that has a removable seat which will fit inside the big loo seat and a back that folds down to turn it into a step so we have all bases covered. It also, as we discovered once we had it home, comes with two little electrodes that once wee has closed the circuit between them set off a trumpet voluntary; I kid you not. All bells and whistles indeed.

The spud has worked out that if he touches both electrodes at once he can turn on the music without the benefit of having had an actual wee and he will do this endlessly. We have therefore had not only to become used to the intrusions of a small child into our privacy but now to a triumphant, fanfare accompaniment to our ablutions.

So there I was this evening running his bath with him standing nappy-less beside the tub while the sound of water running set off his little bladder. I picked him up, still widdling, and leaned him over his potty, standing him in a way that pee hit electrodes and yeay, the trumpets did sound.

He was delighted and I did all the clapping and preening noises one does under these circumstances and he took it on himself to do a little encore. He turned around, sat down, squeezed out a wee, stood back up and… well I don’t remember much after that, I think I may have passed out from shock to the sound of... is that Handel?

Perhaps not quite so dramatic as I may have led you to believe… I am not ridiculous enough to imagine that the trumpets herald end of nappies for us in the near future but you know, I don’t care right now. Right now we have taken the first baby step away from nappies and that’s good enough for me.